


The Art of Patience

by TheScribbler



Category: Call the Midwife
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-16
Updated: 2018-10-12
Packaged: 2018-11-14 22:10:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 40,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11217258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheScribbler/pseuds/TheScribbler
Summary: The sequel to 'In the pursuit of Patience'.





	1. The Recap...

‘In the pursuit of Patience’ – Let’s recap the story so far…

 

So, delightful nurse Delia Busby had been spending time hanging around wards and lusting after the enigmatic and highly infamous Patience Mount. A woman with a reputation of bedding beauties and casting them aside amid a puddle of tears. A random set of events - at a fancy pants auction dinner - found the duo paired together in an all-terrain Tough Trekkers challenge. Cue training dates where much flirting, khaki paint and drunken pub runs ensued. Although totally fancying each other like mad, they didn’t do the deed until Patsy sorted her shit out! And what shit it was….

Through all this frivolity, a cast of characters lurked behind the scenes. Delia discovered that Patsy was in a dysfunctional relationship with Senior Consultant Rosie Gallagher. A haughty, rich 'viperbitch' that was happy to toe Patsy along, whilst shagging all and sundry. Deels’s happy disposition and all-round fun time package enlightened Patsy into perhaps seeking something more in a partner. Unsurprisingly, Rosie didn’t like Delia much when Pats cast her aside, and the feeling was very much mutual!

But, of course, true love didn’t run smoothly. An ex of Delia's (who in classic soap opera style of unlikely coincidences) was employed as one of Patsy’s team of Paediatricians. Who’d have thought?! She made it very clear she still wanted a bit of ol’ Deels too. More of her later…

If this wasn’t enough…there was Trixie, being Delia’s bestie and injecting fun into everyone’s lives. Lipstick, dresses and flirty banter. Plus, two random men that turned up for the ride to act as plot fillers - as mates and a love interest for Trix.

Plus, the poor ailing Mr Mount, who Patsy asked Delia to meet, and all the Mounts fell in love with her because she is cute and Welsh. Hanging around at the ballet and at Charlie Mount’s house, was his sister Dorothy, the elderly aunt that is wise, rich and totally fabulous. Oh, and Rosie’s family have popped up too, to try and complicate matters further.

Through the drama Patsy learns to open-up and confide in Delia. She breaks down her own cleverly crafted boundaries and she learns to love. Plus, she splashes her cash in ways that we can but only dream! Through this though, Delia starts to feel uncomfortable with the cash and the world in which hot Pats inhabits. Her insecurities lead her into damaging her burgeoning relationship with Ms Mount. A reckless kiss tilts the axis of their union, and Patsy (although a complete past lothario) can’t deal with Deels locking lips with her ex -the aforementioned one- who wanted a bit of Delia! Although clearly in love with the brunette, Patsy shuts down and decides that they need time apart. Delia leaves her alone at the end of the challenge with the first gift she was bought by Mounty…an antique compass with a message to come and find her again.

Phew…okay chaps…we’re off again….


	2. Chapter 2

As Patsy looked down the length of her body in the half light, the brunette head between her legs could be mistaken for Delia. It could, if she closed her eyes and imagined.

But it wasn’t.

Still, her body reacted automatically when the woman’s tongue swiped languidly against her, sending a shudder through Patsy’s body.

\---

It had been easy, too easy, to slip back into old habits. The first was a waitress, that had paid her a little too much attention throughout dinner. When she had left her phone number on the bill that Patsy had settled with a generous tip, it didn’t take too long for the red head to send a text. She had been drunk and it had been meaningless. It made her feel good for all of 25 minutes. The length of time for the slim woman to come in to Patsy’s Chelsea home, be half-stripped and taken against the kitchen counter. There was no way she was going anywhere near Patsy’s bedroom. Delia’s perfume still lingered on one pillow and Patsy didn’t want it tainted by someone else. As she bundled her unceremoniously out the door, she heard protesting grumbles, but Patsy just shrugged at them uncaring. After the act, she made her way upstairs to shower and proceeded to curl into a tight ball, clutching the pillow that still held traces of Delia's scent and sobbed uncontrollably.

On the bedside table, laying propped up and unused, the antique compass sat as a reminder of happier and simpler times. 

 

\---

 

The woman who _was_ in one of Patsy’s beds – albeit the spare room – was the sister of an investor. They’d met at a mutual friend's party, where Patsy had discussed potential business opportunities with her elder brother. The woman had broken up their conversation, insisting that they both needed to stop talking shop and let their hair down. Neither had, but the loaded glances being cast in Patsy’s direction all evening, had inevitably led to the situation they now found themselves both in. Patsy found it comfortably familiar to divorce her heart from her head and this had helped her enormously over the last couple of months. Ever since she’d had that last meaningful, but heart-breaking, exchange with Delia. Patsy groaned as she tangled her hands in the woman’s dark hair and held her in place, directing her eager ministrations.

 

She hadn’t known where to start with the ‘Delia situation'. It was unprecedented. She had no rulebook; no past experience to refer to. So naturally Patsy Mount didn’t deal with it. She shut it down. She shut herself down to the emotions summersaulting through her. If she ignored them they would go away. ‘Keep it simple,’ she thought every time the Welsh woman’s face or voice flitted through her mind. She desperately wanted to speak to Delia, but what would she say? She needed to say so much yet as time had drifted on, it had become increasingly difficult to find the words and find a way back. Achingly, Patsy sat everyday with the compass next to her. It became a constant companion whilst watching TV; when reading a book or completing mundane tasks such as stacking the dishwasher. It had become a comfort, a connection to the woman who truly loved her. A daily reminder that there was something better and that she be could better. But every day she looked at it, it just increased the hurt and longing. She had self destructed and she knew that she was pushing herself further away from Delia deliberately.

 

Patsy released a moan as fingers slipped satisfyingly inside her. Sex was instant gratification. It allowed her to be in control again. She knew the game and how to play it. Any thoughts of a reconciliation with Delia, were drifting agonisingly more distant with every nocturnal dalliance. This wasn’t the Patsy that Delia knew. Delia wouldn’t like her now anyway, she wouldn’t like the way she was behaving. Patsy knew she wouldn’t forgive her indiscretions. Hell, Patsy couldn’t forgive herself for the flings she was having. She knew, as she writhed in bed against this woman, that she had already made the ‘Delia situation’ incalculably worse.

 

\---

 

As morning broke through the curtains, Patsy stirred and woke with a start in the unfamiliar room. Her head thudded as the recollection of events from the previous night came swirling back. She tilted her head to see the naked body next to her. Dark hair lay across the white pillow and covered the top of a smooth pale back. For a splinter of a second, she thought it was someone else, and her heart leapt and stomach fluttered giddily.  Then the woman spoke and the clipped voice didn’t match her mental image. There was no Welsh lilt.

“Are you going to make me breakfast?” The woman asked in a teasing tone. “Or should I gather my clothes?”

Patsy smiled, this woman seemed to know the score. For that she was grateful.  

“I’m sure I can rustle up some coffee!” Patsy laughed, slipping out the sheets. She heard the delighted moan from the throat of the woman, as she watched Patsy’s naked form retreating. The red head enjoyed the feeling of being able to elicit such a response from the attractive woman reclining in her bed. She found her dressing gown in her own room, slipped it on and padded downstairs to fix the woman a Patsy post-coital breakfast.

She stood hypnotised by the kettle, listening to the hiss of water boiling, as her fingers tapped out a rhythm. The doorbell interrupted her daze and she slowly made her way to the front door and opened it with a yawn. Surprisingly, her elderly aunt stood on the doorstep, a distinctive Mount eyebrow raised at her niece in front of her.

“Something or someone tiring you out Patience?!” She teased, appraising her niece’s dishevelled state and bleary eyes. A wicked smile spread across her face as she took in Patsy’s blushed cheeks. A figure descending the stairs behind Patsy, made the Mount eyebrow arc even higher.  Over the red head’s shoulder, she saw an unfamiliar woman drift across the reception area heading for the kitchen, dressed only in one of Patsy’s shirts.

“Where’s Delia?” She enquired with sharp concern, eyes boring into Patsy.

Patsy exhaled and rolled her eyes.

“Patience?!” Dorothy insisted, seeing the tell-tale defiance, first adopted by a teenage Patsy many years ago.  

“Something happened!” She breathed, unhappy to be having this conversation on her doorstep, dressed in only her robe.

_“ You_ or her?” Dorothy asked pointedly.

Patsy narrowed her eyes at the assumption that it was her, and began to close the door angrily. Dorothy shot out a hand and held the door firm.

“Oh, you stubborn, ridiculous fool! You are more like your father than you would care to admit!” She admonished. She was not going to stand by and watch Patsy throw away what she had with Delia. Finally, the silly girl had let someone in. Whatever had happened, it could be overcome. It needed to be. She wasn’t going to see Patsy drift through life without feeling love; feeling worth.   

“Get rid of whoever _she is_ Patience darling, and meet me at our usual place for brunch.” Dorothy ordered, brooking no refusal.

“Dorothy, you can’t just tell me what to do!” Patsy replied testily.

“Oh, I can and I will…” She shot back resolutely, “This explains why you have been despondent for the last few months and walking around with the weight of the world on your shoulders!”

Patsy just stood and took the tirade, she knew better than to try and challenge her formidable aunt.

“Well this…” Dorothy gestured over Patsy’s shoulder, in the direction of the woman in the kitchen. “Is not going to sort it with Delia, is it? Or make _you_ feel better!”

Patsy shrugged nonchalantly and thought to herself that she felt pretty fine at 2am this morning with an attentive head between her legs.

“Are we done aunt?” She responded curtly, challenging her with a cold stare.

Dorothy again raised a single eyebrow at her frustrating niece. She would always be loved but she didn’t half make life difficult for herself. Now she was going to have to make the younger Mount see some sense.

“Right. See you at 12.30 sharp!” She called as she turned and walked down the steps onto the Chelsea street. Wanting to get the last word in, Patsy called out.

“You’re paying then!”

To which Dorothy waved a dismissive hand and walked away.

 

\---

 

Patsy walked into the Knightsbridge restaurant and spotted her aunt at her usual table by the window. Dorothy put down her Sunday paper as her niece approached, and looked her up and down. Although she was looking more polished than earlier this morning, there was still definite signs that Patsy was not coping as well as she would probably make out she was.  Pulling out a chair, Patsy placed down her bag and sniped.

“Well _this_ has got me up and out of bed!”

Dorothy furrowed her brow and was happy to aim a low blow.

“Probably just as well considering who was in it.”

Patsy glared at her and picked up the menu, looking over it in silence. Her elderly aunt watched her deliberate but knew exactly what she was going to order. Patsy had always been a creature of habit. Deciding what she liked and sticking with it. Except with women, the older woman mused to herself. When she finally closed the menu and unfurled a napkin, Dorothy began.

“Patience, dear. What has happened?” Patsy visibly shrunk in her chair to avoid the question, but Dorothy was not going to let the red head get away without answering. This was a subject that could not be brushed aside.

“No, you don’t! Why is Delia not with you? What was so awful that it caused you and the delightful girl to part ways?”

Patsy bit her lip, explaining it to Dorothy would sound so petty. What had happened, she knew she had over reacted. She was hurt by Delia’s actions but her reactions to it all couldn’t be excused. 

“Whatever has happened, has caused untold grief and pushed you into the arms of another...or is it _others_ Patsy?” Dorothy questioned.

Patsy inhaled, hating that her aunt always had the ability to know what she was doing and thinking. Dorothy tutted and took a sip of her tea. She clasped her hands in front of her and pursed her lips.

“I love you Patsy, so very dearly. But this is destructive. You can be so destructive….to yourself. You allowed yourself to be open with Delia. Allowed yourself to have something decent and proper. I have never seen you like that with anyone before.”

Patsy felt her aunt’s sincerity and before she knew it, she was wiping away tears that were silently falling down her cheeks. Her chest heaved, she had been holding in so much for so long.

“I’ve messed it all up.” She paused, contemplating her words, “Well Delia messed it up…I saw her kissing someone else and I couldn’t cope with it. I pushed her away…but it was only a kiss…and I acted like she had betrayed me unforgivably.”

Dorothy reached into her purse and produced a handkerchief for her niece. Handing it to her, she encouraged her to go on.

“It hurt Dorothy, I’ve never felt like that because of someone…it was…so raw and painful.” Patsy dabbed the corner of her eyes, trying not to smudge her makeup. She took a juddering breath.

Dorothy’s heart ached for her niece, “Love can be Patsy…it can be.”

Patsy smiled weakly from across the table.

“How did you know it was love?” She asked, head tilted in question.

Dorothy rolled her eyes and flourished her hands, “Oh, you silly! The moment I saw you two together at the ballet I knew how she felt about you. It radiated off her. As for you, it was when you brought her to meet your father. If that wasn’t the act of someone falling in love, I don’t know what was!”

A waiter interrupted, taking their order and knotting his brow at the red eyes of Patsy. She didn’t return any eye contact. She thought about Dorothy’s words. Delia had been open from the beginning. Her feelings bold and worn so freely. The flirting had been fun at first but then ever so slowly Delia’s love and tenderness had pinpricked her skin and warmed the protective steely layer clad around her heart. She had made her fall in love.

“Have you spoken to her?” Dorothy asked, taking another sip of tea.

Patsy looked up at her through damp dark lashes and exhaled slowly, “No...no I haven't.”

Dorothy slowly nodded and cautiously asked, “How was it left?”

Patsy cast her mind back to the Trekker weekend when she last spoke to Delia. She closed her eyes and recalled the image of Delia angry at her decision to cool off their relationship, rather than work through it like adults. 

Patsy opened her eyes and replied, “Badly…it was left up to me to let her know what I wanted.”

Dorothy narrowed her eyes at her niece, “And you haven’t decided either way?”

Patsy shook her head and cast her eyes down, unable to meet her aunt’s scrutiny. Pink started to tinge her cheeks in embarrassment.

Dorothy exhaled and clasped her hands to her mouth. “Oh, the poor darling girl. Patsy you are such a cad. Do you know that?”

Patsy nodded, taking the deserved reprimand. Dorothy continued, “So what do you want to do now?”

Patsy shrugged disconsolate, “Does it matter? It’s too late now anyway? Far too much time has elapsed. I haven’t spoken to her for so long.”

Dorothy reached across the table and grasped the red head’s hands, forcing the distraught younger woman to look her straight in the eye.

“It’s never too late to at least try Patience!” She stated with determination.

Patsy rolled her eyes at her aunt’s positivity. ‘Trying’ wouldn’t be enough, how would she go about repairing the mess that she had now created?

“Okay, it may well be... _but,”_ she stressed, “…at least you won’t regret having not tried. Don’t live life with any regrets Patsy!”

Patsy held her aunt’s gaze, taking in her words. What did she want herself? Did she want Delia? She thought about the brunette and the smile reserved only for her. Of the way she had brought out the best out of her since they met. How she had encouraged Patsy to face her fears and past demons head on, without judgement or recoil. Of course she still wanted Delia. It had never gone away. She had wanted Delia from the moment that she had lassoed her heart and tugged her out of her previous ways. However, Patsy had pushed her away and had now singlehandedly thrown away what they had together. Detonated what they _could_ have together.  

“It doesn’t matter now anyway!” Patsy whispered, “Too much time has elapsed. I’ve already caused enough damage with my actions and behaviour. She won’t like what I’ve been doing. What I’ve done to us.” Patsy gulped and removed her trembling hands from her aunt’s hold. She sighed dismissively and shook her head, “She’s probably moved on now anyway.”

Dorothy sat back in her seat, steepling her fingers in front of her.

“What she doesn’t know Patsy, won’t hurt her.”

Patsy flicked her blue eyes back to meet her aunts, “Are you saying I should lie?” She questioned surprised.

Dorothy canted her head and pressed her lips together tightly.

“I’m saying that if you want to win her back and you know how she will react, there are some indiscretions you may want to be a little circumspect about revealing. I’ve lived long enough to have learnt that not everyone needs to know _everything_ about each other.”

Their order arrived and was placed in front of the pair. Patsy looked at her aunt. What secrets did she hold tight to her chest, that she had never revealed? Who had she loved? Patsy felt that the Mounts all lived with layers upon layers of words and actions unspoken. They all hid their feelings, fearing the repercussions. Dorothy unfolded her napkin and picked up a fork to sample a mouthful of food. She chewed slowly, obviously contemplating a thought and whether to air it. Patsy had composed her emotions enough to join her in eating. As Dorothy placed her cutlery down, she seasoned her eggs further and pertinently asked.

“Do you love her Patsy? If you do, it’s quite simple really!”

This time Patsy allowed her heart to answer her aunt. She swallowed and smiled weakly at the astute woman. 

 “Yes… _yes..._ I do.” She breathed quietly. The sudden surge of feeling at revealing those words, took the red head by surprise.

Dorothy tilted her head and smiled at her younger relation. Her face softening at her niece’s candour.

“Then go and use the Mount charm that you have inherited in abundance and bloody well win her back, Patience.”

She went on further, now having the red head’s full attention.

“…And Patsy?”

“Yes?” Patsy returned, slightly worried at the forceful tone.

“When you do…stop being so ridiculously stubborn and belligerent, and don’t you dare let her go for a second time!”

With that, Dorothy picked up her knife and fork to indicate the matter was done and dusted. She pivoted on a pin and resumed everyday conversation with ease.

“Are you taking the box for the ballet this weekend? I was rather hoping to take the women from the guild to the evening performance?”

Patsy smiled at how quickly her aunt could resolve an issue and shook her head in amusement. After taking a bite of her food, she answered grinning.

“No…it’s all yours. I think I will be quite busy this weekend.”     

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for your messages during my writing hiatus!! They pushed me to start writing this quicker than anticipated! It probably won't be as long as the previous instalment but the characters needed to make a reappearance! 
> 
> scribblerwriting@gmail.com


	3. Chapter 3

Delia returned home from the Trekker challenge broken and in despair. On entering the flat she shared with her best friend Trixie, she immediately washed and then subsequently wept for the rest of the weekend. She was inconsolable.  Trixie knew there was nothing she could do to ease the pain during the aftermath of the separation, except bring her food and hug her much loved friend until she slept. Sleep was a respite from the wretched feelings that consumed Delia. Images of Patsy tormented her in her sleep. The red head’s angry face contorted in disgust, spitting her final condemnation at her.

Work eventually pulled Delia from her pit of misery and she felt as though she slept walked through her shifts during that first week. The constant checking of her mobile was utterly exhausting and ultimately futile. At night, Trixie enveloped her in blankets and tried to encourage her to take in some nourishment. It was difficult. All food tasted bland and Delia’s throat instantly constricted at the thought of eating. Trixie always sighed, smiled kindly at the brunette and removed it from her lap.

They sat for hours analysing the situation as only women can. Trying to find some positivity in the words Patsy spoke. However, by the end of the first week Delia had started to give up hope. There had been no word from Patsy. Trixie tried to find justification in why she hadn’t contacted Delia but the Welsh woman knew what Patsy was like. She had shut her out. She was back in a ‘Delia box’. Probably never to be opened again. Her heart ached at the understanding that this could be it. She hadn’t been at work either. A discreet enquiry revealed that Patsy had taken annual leave and Dr Chambers had taken over running the Paediatric team in her absence. She had left the country and very much left Delia.

The first weekend after their relationship’s denouement, Trixie did manage to get Delia to consume some liquid. In the form of copious amounts of vodka and gin. They drank to help Delia obliterate. It worked. They were both wrecked. They both laughed, they both cursed the air that Patsy Mount breathed. They cried and finally…they vomited. It wasn’t pleasant, but for Delia it was very much needed.

After the binge drink Delia started to physically pull herself together. Although not eating properly she did start to run again. In fact, she ran every day, sometimes twice. She channelled her despair into exercise and felt better for it. The endorphins kicked in and life didn’t feel quite so shit.

She was also able to deflect her mother’s attempt at a visit. Trixie had called her after the first week, concerned about her physical state. Mrs Busby was all ready to swoop in the next day and airlift Delia back home to Wales. Full of well-meaning care, she wanted to get Delia ‘fed up and fully fit’ again. Fortunately, Delia managed to convince her that she was well and that her appetite was slowly returning. She couldn’t bring herself to fully explain the whole situation and felt a little guilty that her mother had assumed Patsy had left Delia due to her ‘not being good enough’. As her mother made it clear she despised Patsy, Delia thought she wouldn’t correct her. It wasn’t as if they were ever going to meet now, was it? 

Delia’s smidgen of hope had faded by week three and the lack of _any_ communication. Patsy had made her position clear by not contacting her. It felt final. In the interim, Delia had avoided places where she might bump into the red head at work. Patsy had returned from leave looking tanned and relaxed. Delia had briefly glimpsed her entering the lift, so she quickly swerved and took the stairs. She wanted to avoid the embarrassment of sharing a confined space with the Consultant. She wasn’t ready for that just yet.

Delia had returned home the evening of seeing Patsy enraged.  How dare she take herself off and swan about enjoying herself when she was drowning in misery. Trixie handed her a glass of wine to soothe Delia during her anti-Patsy rant. After necking the first glass, Delia had wondered where she had been and who she had shared her time with. It had better not be Rosie ‘fucking’ Gallagher she fumed, and immediately shut that image out. She couldn’t handle thinking of Patsy with another woman; even if it was just a holiday fling. Oh, how she bloody hated her, but she couldn’t bare the thought of anyone else touching or caressing a single inch of her skin. Patsy was hers.    

 

Over the first two weeks Delia had resolutely refused to return any of Emma’s calls or messages. The woman had been persistent. She implored Delia to give them a go, trying to convince Delia that the kiss signified something more. That their past wasn’t over; that this was the perfect opportunity to start again. The few voicemails that she listened to, had Emma surmising that Delia and Patsy would never work and that Delia needed someone like her - someone similar in socio-economic standing. It was at this point that Delia hung up and decided that she would not be told that she wasn’t good enough for Patsy due to money. Her past issues with wealth evaporated with just one sentence from her ex. If only Emma had known not to press _that_ button.

By the end of the month her appetite had returned fully and she realised that she had thought less about Patsy. Realisation and then resignation had prompted Delia to pack away the few pictures she had of them both as a couple. She had also poured the remnants of Patsy’s favourite whiskey down the sink and placed a posy of flowers in the empty bottle. It seemed fitting somehow. It raised a smile. Her training had intensified and she was feeling positive as she was seeing the effects on her physique. Maybe something good would come from the break up.

Her growing acceptance of her new found single situation resulted in an almighty blow out with Trixie and the boys one Saturday in central London. Dressed to impress, she went out with the intention of getting smashed and not caring about her actions. The night was extremely messy but thoroughly cathartic. Mike bought shot after shot until Delia couldn’t feel her teeth anymore. The pain of loving Patsy Mount and losing her was slowly subsiding in her chest. The rest of the weekend was a complete write off and she and Trixie sat in the sofa to recover, watching box set after box set, whilst eating a lot of beige food.

Now that Delia’s social agoraphobia had been broken, she couldn’t stop going out. First it was bars with Trix, and then when Trix couldn’t keep up with her nightly antics, she turned to Mike. They hit the gay bars and pubs around Soho in earnest. Delia took solace in the numbers she acquired, but couldn’t go beyond a drunken fumble as she immediately felt guilty. It was the same guilt she had after the clinch with Emma. Patsy wouldn’t like this. This was not the Delia that Patsy said she loved. The conflict bubbled in Delia. Why was she thinking of Patsy? Patsy was gone. These women were her future, so she shouldn’t feel guilty about her actions.

The ending of her short-lived romance with the divine Ms Mount had made Delia analyse her situation and what she wanted in life. Evenings were spent musing about her future. It was time to grow up, move on and mature into the adult that her age said she was already. Patsy Mount was a chapter in her life that should have been titled ‘The One’ but regrettably Delia had fucked that up herself. She might not find anyone to equal the red head but she knew she couldn’t sit around anymore hoping that she’d come back. It was time to move on…

…and she did.


	4. Chapter 4

Delia was cursing her team. Due to her ‘mopey face’ for the last month or so, she had been nominated to represent her department in an ‘All Department Hospital Ideas Panel’ or ADHIP for short. She was not amused. A full afternoon of sharing concerns and generating ways to shape the future of the hospital, was not her idea of fun. She knew that none of her concerns would be noted and none would be dealt with. She felt redundant. A little how she felt in life.

She settled in the uncomfortable chair that was the wrong height for a vertically challenged woman. She could neither plant her feet on the floor squarely, nor sit crossed legged for too long, without the familiar throb around her knees. Moments like these she cursed her Busby genes. She’d been cursing a lot lately.

“We’re just waiting for one more and then we can start.” The suited administrator instructed, looking at his watch.

It was five minutes past the alloted start time. That was five minutes of her life Delia wasn’t getting back. The room grumbled about the late arrival but were immediately hushed when the imposing figure of Patience Mount strode in. Delia heard the familiar voice before she saw her, and her stomach lurched in response. She looked up from the pad, she had already started doodling on, to see Patsy apologising for her tardiness.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Why?

Why on earth was Patience Mount in a god awful ADHIP meeting? Surely, she could pull some strings and be excused from such a torturous hell. There must be some perks for her position in the Hospital Trust.

Ms Mount’s apology was waved away by the meeting lead, agreeing too keenly that ‘emergencies happen in hospitals!’ He received a faint lip curl in response to his attempt at a joke from Patsy. Delia felt for the man who had failed to make an impression on the Consultant. Many didn’t. Patsy scanned the room and stilled a fraction at seeing Delia. Delia registered the look of concern and mild panic that lasted a moment on the red head’s face, before her mask of professionalism returned. She knew she had mirrored Patsy with the same fearful stance.

The only seat vacant was opposite Delia.

She hadn’t been this close to Patsy in months. She had carefully avoided her, when it had been made patently clear that Patsy was done with her. She had moved on. That decision was final. She knew it was for the best. Definitely.

Delia didn’t know where to look as Patsy took up her perch and removed a notebook from her bag, simultaneously crossing her legs in that effortlessly elegant way that she always did. No bloody aching knees there cursed Delia, her eyes drawn to the long smooth legs directly in front of her. 'Don’t look Busby,' Delia reprimanded, trying to drag her eyes away from the gentle curve of her calves. Through her recent hate of all things Mount, a memory of kissing and licking up those long limbs flashed through Delia’s mind. She swallowed hard and quickly looked away. Damn Patsy. She was over her, truly. She didn’t want to think of her in that way. She couldn’t, as it hurt too much. The last few months had been hell for the brunette. Not a word from Patsy. Not a note, text, email…anything! She had been cut off and shut out. It hurt. In fact, it more than hurt, it had killed her. Now she was here, forced to be in the same room again; share the same air.

As the meeting progressed, Delia felt the unnerving sensation of being scrutinised. She could feel a pair of eyes searing her skin. Heat rippled up her body and her skin prickled pink. Out the corner of her eye she could see that Patsy was making no attempt to hide the fact that she was looking straight at her. She tried to keep her cool and regulate her breathing. This was not the place she wanted their first interaction to be in. She had so much she wanted to say but this was too public.  

The meeting progressed agonisingly slowly for Delia, the conversation turgid and the situation unbearable.

It was about to get much worse.

In a flurry of quick activity that took both Delia and Patsy by surprise, the room had been asked to pair up. Having both been distracted from listening to the instructor, they were a beat too late. Almost instantaneously, their colleagues peeled away into comfortable duos. Breaths of relief being heard in the small stuffy room. Slightly stricken, both looked around for anyone to be with other than each other. As realisation dawned that there wasn’t anyone, they slowly turned to make eye contact across the space. As blue eyes locked, Delia lost the ability to breathe. She gulped nervously as Patsy gave a little shrug and a quirk of the lips, to indicate that this was going to have to happen.

Picking up her belongings, she made her way over to sit in the empty seat next to Delia. Flustered and unable to stand the impending torture, the brunette busied herself in her bag for an imaginary last-minute essential. Patsy watched her intently, a slight smile ghosting across her lips. Delia finally gave up the pretence when Patsy whispered in her low familiar husk,

“Hello Deels…sorry about this!”

Delia’s total surprise was written across her face. Her eyes blinked blankly at Patsy. The bright blue had lost some of their shine recently, but they showed clearly that Delia was in shock. Patsy had spoken. To her. Patience Mount had uttered her first words in months.

Delia had been waiting agonisingly for this moment and here the red head was doing it quite casually, as though nothing had transpired between them. Had she heard right? Delia continued to stare. After all this time, all the hours Delia had willed Patsy to make contact, bloody ADHIP was not what she wanted their first conversation to be about.

“W..w..what are you doing here?” She stuttered in response, a stupid reply she knew. Patsy looked at her and tilted her head in surprise.

“The same reason as you, I expect Deels!” She chuckled, as though there was nothing else to speak about. No history between them.  No heart breaking last conversation. She clicked her pen and began to scribble something in her notebook. Unaffected.

Delia inhaled sharply, her brow furrowed, angry with herself and the situation. How could she be so bloody breezy? How could she look so frustratingly good? As she tried to regain some control to her spiralling feelings, she took a deep breath and realised too late that she could smell Patsy’s perfume, detect her scent. She shuddered slightly. Her reaction to the proximity was intense. She leaned in slightly.

No!

She had worked through all of this. They were done. Patsy didn’t want her. They were colleagues, nothing more.

Delia was roused from her disorientation, by a question from one of the other ADHIP team. A discussion developed around her. A pointless, ineffectual ‘idea stream,’ as the suit liked to call it. She could see Patsy shift and roll her eyes at the waste of time this all was. She tried to tune into the debate around her, but Delia was distracted by Patsy’s notebook slipping into the corner of her vision. Was she writing notes to her? Really?! After all the radio silence, now she was wanting her attention. What the fuck?

However, Delia felt her heart constrict at the words.

**I’ve missed you, I’ve missed us.**

Delia closed her eyes. Patsy flicked her vision from the pad to watch the brunette’s reaction. Delia pulled herself together, opened her eyes and took the pad. She had so much she wanted to say. So much anger and hurt. Patsy had so much to explain. However, Delia was pulled to write instinctively.  

**_Me too…_ **

Delia heard Patsy gulp. She could see that Patsy was unable to look away from the words Delia had written.

The pair were interrupted by a question directed towards Patsy. Delia saw the colour rise up her neck. Somehow, perhaps through years of having to half listen to conversations whilst thoughts were elsewhere, Patsy answered eloquently and succinctly; satisfying the asker. Delia was impressed. However, as she already knew, she was _always_ impressed with professional Pats; it was personal Patsy that she had issues with.

Delia poured ice cold water over their shared moment as she hastily scribbled.

 ** _Where on earth have you been Patsy??_**  

Delia’s chest thudded at the response and the admittance from Patsy.

**Places I shouldn’t.**

Delia didn’t want to know what she had been doing and with whom. Her throat went dry. She leant further away from Patsy, eyes still on the Consultant’s looped words. She’d feared she had pushed Patsy away but secretly hoped that whatever they had would be enough. She couldn’t think about Patsy with another woman. Or _women._ She reached for her bottle of water and shakily removed the cap and took a sip. Her vision felt slightly blurred. She shouldn’t be having this reaction to her.  Patsy continued to write.

**I need to speak with you properly. We need to talk. Shall we leave???**

Delia cast a quick side glance at Patsy, deflation showing in her own eyes. Meekly she nodded. They needed to talk and it looked like it was going to be today. Patsy pulled out her phone and sent a text. Delia didn’t know how they were going to exit discreetly and she was still unsure if she wanted to spend any more time with the Consultant. Did she have the energy to rake over the past?  Finally, they were communicating; that single nightmare was over, but did Delia want to hear what Patsy had to say? How on earth was she going to explain her evasive actions? As Patsy was dealing with something on her phone, Delia wrote.

**_We can’t leave until we’ve done one of those god-awful evaluations!_ **

**Fuck them! I’d be totally scathing anyway.**  

Was Patsy’s reply, as a confident rap on the door was followed by a young pretty nurse.

“Sorry to disturb, but Ms Mount and Nurse Busby are needed urgently!” She stated on entry.

Patsy sprung up straight away and shot Delia a look at her slow reactions. Delia scrabbled her belongings together and followed Patsy out the room; keeping her head down to avoid the stares of her colleagues. In the corridor, Patsy was thanking the nurse, who giddily laughed at her boss’s praise and insistence that she owed her a drink for her speedy response. Delia stood mute, a few feet away, listening to the Mount charm. It never ceased.

“You could talk anyone into doing anything, couldn’t you?” Delia stated after the nurse left, trying to smile, but the edges of her lips barely moved.

“Not everyone Delia.” Patsy replied pointedly. They stood silent for a moment until Patsy broke the tension, “Let’s go somewhere…anywhere a long way from here.”

Delia nodded silently, her feet following automatically. They walked side by side out into the car park and it was the blip of an unfamiliar vehicle that shook Delia into language.

“Where’s your car Pats?” She asked, looking around confused.

Patsy opened the passenger door of a sleek black convertible Aston Martin and signalled for Delia to step in.

“I was feeling shit so I bought myself something to cheer me up.” She breezed, walking around to the driver’s side.

“I went for a Volante convertible. Father doesn’t have one of these! Plus, something else…” she muttered, almost to herself, “…but it’s being fitted out before I can use it.”

“Did it work? Delia responded bleakly. “Were you cheered up?” Patsy obviously got over heart break with holidays and new shiny fast toys. Lucky for some.  

“Not really…” Patsy responded quietly. She changed tone and brightly asked, “Do you want to drive?”

Delia smiled wanly, she realised that she couldn’t cope with flippant Patsy. She wanted answers to the cold shoulder. Reasons for why she was put through months of crap. If she wasn’t prepared to do that, then she had nothing to talk to her about.

“Actually, Patsy – can you just take me home. I’m tired.” She requested solemnly.

“Of course.” Patsy responded, casting a glance at the subdued Welsh woman.

The drive was muted, partly due to the soft top nature of the car, but mostly because neither knew where to begin. Delia resolutely refused to initiate conversation. She needed Patsy to start, to explain herself. To make amends. She looked over at the low frame of Patsy behind the wheel. Infuriatingly, she looked good there. She always looked bloody good. Being so close to the red head, stirred the dormant feelings that Delia had tried to quash. Her longing grew but it was tinged with sadness. She had wanted and craved to be in this situation again so many times, but now she was here, she only felt tired and drained. Their fall out and subsequent break up had sapped her energy completely.

\---

 

Quietly, Delia turned the key in the lock and let them both in to her flat. She dropped her bag off her shoulder and made for the kitchen. Filling the kettle and clicking on the switch.

“Tea, coffee?” She asked hospitably. Patsy smiled, nodding at the former offer.

Patsy walked through the crowded corridor that linked the kitchen to the lounge. She took in the boxes stacked all around her. Cardboard cubes all labelled in Delia’s familiar handwriting. It took a moment for realisation to dawn; she suddenly felt a wave of nausea. A coldness dowsed her.

“Are you two moving somewhere?” She asked tentatively, hoping the words didn’t betray the worry and concern ebbing through her. Delia couldn’t leave. Not now.

“No…not Trixie…just me.” Came the reply, faintly from the kitchen.

Patsy dropped onto the sofa looking at the piles of boxes. Her breathing became laboured. She was too late. Damn it. Delia was moving on. She bit back tears. This wasn’t what was supposed to happen. _She_ wanted to start again. She was ready to reach out and win her back.

“Where are you g…going Delia?”  Her voice wavered, pain evident.

Delia walked into the lounge and leaned against the door frame. Annoyance and defeat on her face. She had heard the inflection in Patsy’s voice and suddenly felt insulted by it.

“Why do you care Patsy?” She demanded.

Patsy knotted her brows at Delia. Asking for clarification, without uttering a word. Delia rolled her eyes at Patsy’s stupidity.

“I’ve had to make some decisions recently. I can’t afford London Patsy, if I want to have a life where I enjoy myself and get on the property ladder, I need to leave.  Apart from what we had, I haven’t had much success in love here, so there wasn’t anything holding me to live in London...apart from Trix.”

Delia was on a roll now, feeling every need to explain why she had been forced to come to this decision.

“Anyway…Trix is starting to come to the same conclusion as me as well. Public sector workers can’t buy in London...we can’t afford it! I don’t want to get political on you but you must know that!”

Delia sat down on the chair adjacent to the sofa. She watched Patsy’s reaction. Half of her enjoyed seeing the distress and anguish in the red head but the other half was conflicted; wanting to hold and soothe the woman’s sudden feeling of loss.

“I have seen a house. My offer has been accepted and while I’m waiting I thought I’d visit the family.” Delia refused to acknowledge Patsy’s beseeching eyes. “I’m using my holiday leave while it all sorts itself out. I’ve packed up ready…I’m just waiting for it all to go through.”

Patsy couldn’t speak. She tried to marshall her thoughts. Delia was leaving London. Leaving _her_ for good. She was shell shocked. Her stubbornness in refusing to contact Delia, had led to this awful situation. What could she say to reverse the decision? Delia seemed determined. Delia didn’t want to be with her anymore. Who could blame her, she was a mess and a total fuck-up. 

Delia waited patiently for Patsy to respond. She didn’t. The younger woman took the lack of communication as yet another slight.

“It’s been over two months Pats! I haven’t heard a word from you. I assumed I was in a box and you’d buried me six feet under. It’s how you told me you cope.” Delia stood and paced the lounge, hands on hips, angry. She wanted Patsy to speak but she realised that she had plenty she wanted to say. Every drunken commiserating chat with Trixie had been building to this moment.   

“I waited Patsy for you…for so long. I waited for anything…I guessed after a week it was to be expected. I was a fucking mess throughout.” Delia laughed hollowly at the memory of past events. “At the end of the month we went on a big bender to get you out of my system. It was hideous. It didn’t work! I was sick for days but…I did have a few numbers from girls…so that cheered me up a bit.” Delia stared at the consultant, aiming to get a rise out of her.

Patsy smarted at the comment and narrowed her eyes. Delia knew it had hit the mark. Patsy stayed mute. She had no leg to stand on, considering what she had been up to. Finally, it was too much and Patsy broke.

“Fuck Delia, I wish you had talked to me.” She began to raise her voice at it all.

“Patsy!” Delia uttered exasperated, “You were the one to decide! The ball was in your court. I had no right to chase after you. You made it clear that you needed time. You had time…how much time did you feel you needed? Over two months is long enough to make a bloody decision if you wanted someone.”

Delia threw her arms in the air to exaggerate her point. “I have a life too and a right to be happy. It felt very much that you were done with me…so…so I moved on.”

At this final sentence, Patsy’s blue eyes flashed up to meet Delia’s. She inhaled sharply, as though gathering strength from the oxygen she breathed in. She stood up and straightened her skirt.

“I understand.” She replied neutrally.

The professional mask slipped into place. Hiding the real Patsy. Delia eyes widened, challenging Patsy to say something of importance. Something with feeling. It didn’t come. Ice maiden Ms Mount was back. Patsy bit her lip, as though there was something bubbling inside, wanting to strike out. She shook her head slightly, picked up her bag and made for the door. She paused as she departed the lounge, running her fingers over Delia’s handwriting on one of the boxes, as though committing it to memory.  Delia stood and watched her leave. Watched her walk out of her flat and possibly out of her life.

 

 

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

Patsy had left Delia’s flat distraught. Somehow she held it together so Delia didn’t see the turmoil she was in. This wasn’t how it was meant to happen. She had planned to use this weekend to start to build something again with Delia. The bloody ADHIP meeting had thrown a spanner in the works. She hadn’t been prepared to see Delia today and all the emotions that came entangled with that.

She certainly hadn’t expected the revelation that Delia would leave London for good. There was no way that could happen. If she was to win Delia back, the Welsh woman needed to be living in London. This was her home; this was where her friends were. Delia belonged in London. She belonged with Patsy. Fuck. She berated herself. Why had she taken so long to get in contact? Her aunt was right, she was bloody stubborn.

The red head had smoked two cigarettes outside Delia’s flat, leaning against the side of her car, as she controlled her emotions. She made a flash decision and reached for her phone, dialling a number. A man’s voice answered.

“Max…Hi, It’s Patsy…. Look, there is a Miss Delia Busby and she has put in an offer on a house somewhere…Possibly around the outskirts of London, I can’t be sure…Can you find me the information? Oh…and I hate to be pushy but I could do with the info within the hour...Thanks.”

Patsy signed off. With purpose, she strode around to the driver side of the car and settled into the leather seat. Pulling out into Delia’s street she smiled to herself. It was the first smile about Delia, that she had managed in a long time.

  

\---

 

“To Ms ‘independent’ Busby and her ridiculous notion that she needs to become an adult!” Trixie laughed as she charged her glass, inviting the group of friends to toast Delia’s departure with merriment.

“Trix, it’s hardly a strange notion that I might want to buy a house!” 

“I still don’t know why sweetie. I’m waiting for the right man to slip a ring on my finger and keep me in the life I know I will become accustomed too!” She giggled sipping her wine.

Delia rolled her eyes. The women who fought for freedoms throughout the years would love to hear how their progress and sacrifices had advanced woman kind, when it came to Beatrix Franklin! Trixie’s love affair with the dashing doctor Collins from A and E fizzled out a month ago and Trixie was very much single and on the look-out again for ‘The One’ or at the very least ‘The Next One!’

“We can all live in hope that an attractive rich Consultant might swing our way and sweep us off into their amazing lifestyle…can’t we?” Trixie chanced an eyebrow raise at Delia. The comment wasn’t lost on her best friend.

“It’s not all it’s cracked up to be Trix, believe me!” Delia shot back unimpressed.

Delia thought back to her last unsatisfactory exchange with Patsy and shook her head. She was so exasperating. It seemed she wanted to say something but held back. Her steel defence shuttering her true feelings yet again.  Bloody woman. Was she going to say something about their relationship? She had obviously been affected by Delia's decision to move out of London.

Could Delia be with her again? Did she even want that? Delia sighed and drank deeply. She smiled at her friends and laughed at their ribbing. If she was honest with herself, she knew she wasn’t over Pasty. It was going to take much longer than two months for that to happen. God, how she wanted Patsy to have fallen to her knees in her flat and beg for her to come back. To not leave. But she didn’t. That didn’t surprise Delia, Patsy didn’t seem the type to ever beg for forgiveness. She had hoped in vain, that she had meant more to her than the other women she’d been with, and that Patsy would show some fight for her.  It wasn’t to be. Obviously, she could be replaced.

Delia mentally scolded herself. Why was she thinking about it _again_? It wasn’t healthy. She had accepted she was gone. She had made her decision about what to do next with her life. Patsy Mount just couldn’t walk back into her life and expect it to be okay. She had lost that right, with her continued silence. She had shut her out. Delia knew she deserved better than that.

Yesterday, she had watched as Patsy stood on the pavement outside her flat and smoked two cigarettes. She was obviously contemplating the exchange she had just had with Delia and the Welsh woman was pleased that she had ruffled her enough to prompt the need for the lighter. It showed that there was still some emotion inside the older woman. She had spoken to someone on the phone and then abruptly driven off. Where had she gone? Delia’s mind raced to the ' ** _places I shouldn’t'_** comment Patsy had admitted. She’d probably arranged a hook up with someone. Delia ached at the thought and downed the rest of her drink.

She hated that there was now THIS hanging between them. Maybe further silence and never seeing Patsy, would have been easier to take, rather than this weird half communication and her emotions being stirred up again in a maelstrom of uncertainty.

“Busby!” A voice shook her from her reverie.

“You are getting pissed…stop with the melancholy…there are plenty of beautiful… _deserving_ women out there that would give everything to be with you.” Trixie whispered, hugging her friend’s shoulders. She had seen the distant look creep across Delia’s face as soon as she had quipped about rich consultants.

Delia smiled at her best friend and nodded slowly. Maybe there was _, but they wouldn’t be Patsy -_   she wanted to say, but held back from admitting to Trixie.

\---

Drinks had lasted late into the night and now Delia was nursing a hangover. It had not been a great travel companion for the drive back to Wales. As she drove into the coastal town of Little Markham, a sense of calm washed over her as she passed the welcome sign. She was home. The Pembrokeshire coast had been her home until she left for University and all the Busby clan still resided there. This fact never went unmentioned on her rare visits home. Although happy to leave for London all those years ago, returning home always filled her with a peace and sense of belonging that she had yet to find fully in London. She thought in vain that she had found that with Patsy, but alas that wasn’t to be now.

Tired and aching from the drive, Delia pulled up in front of the family home. Almost instantly, the front door swung open and Mrs Busby bustled down the path in full beam. The ecstatic woman had opened the driver’s door and wrenched Delia into a tight embrace, almost before Delia had turned off the ignition.

“Mam, have you been watching for me all day?” She laughed, muffled against her mother’s chest.

“No cariad, not at all…although I was expecting you a few hours earlier.” She pointedly remarked as she pulled back and concentrated on her only daughter’s face. 

“Let me look at you…gosh you look peaky!” She analysed quickly. “Let’s get you inside and get you some food. I have your favourite waiting in the oven!”

“It’s fine Mam, I picked up something at the service station, before I crossed the border.” Delia tried to protest, hating the fuss her mother made of her when she fluttered back to the family nest. 

“That rubbish?” She chastised, “It’s not proper Welsh food. No ifs Missy. Get in and you can tell me all about your new house and how you have been since we last spoke.” Delia was pulled into the house and as the familiar smell of her home hit her, she smiled at the usual welcome she received from her mother.

 

\---

 

“I’m meting Amy in the pub Mam…I’ll see you later.” Delia shouted, grabbing her jacket and heading out the door later that evening. She loved her family dearly, but there was only so much of her mother she could take. Delia was happy to escape the Busby house for a couple of hours.

Her father had made his return from work and kissed Delia’s head on entering the kitchen. He immediately made for the back door and the adjoining garage, winking conspiratorially as he patted his shirt pocket. Delia returned a smile, knowing he was going to smoke and that they would catch up when her mother had finished with her interrogation. Fortunately for Delia, Mrs Busby spoke only of work, Trixie and her new acquisition. Delia could sense that the matriarch wanted to talk about what had transpired with Patsy, but had held back…for now.

She breathed in the Pembrokeshire air as she made her way down her garden path and out onto the road. The pub was nestled on the waterfront, past the independent shops that Little Markham had to offer. It wasn’t particularly a tourist spot but people did visit for the quaint harbour and a popular fish restaurant, that had received rave reviews since Delia had left for London. The familiar path took her to the local hostelry, where she was greeted immediately by her oldest friend.

“Delia!” The high-pitched squeal could be heard across the pub.

Delia was welcomed by a big grin and a hug that she couldn’t help but return.

“Amy! It could only be you!”

“Delia...I’ve so missed you!” She returned, looking at her friend. The pair hadn’t seen each other for nearly two years and both hadn’t changed much. They had kept in touch via social media but Delia’s infrequent returns to Wales, coupled with her parent’s coming to London to see her, had meant that she hadn’t seen her best friend from school for a significant amount of time.

“We need a drink…and to talk…and totally catch up!” Amy disappeared to the bar and ordered for them both. Delia watched her vivacious friend. As she spoke to the bar man, her honey coloured waves bobbed, laughing at his joke. She was a flirt. She always had been and it had gotten her and Delia into trouble many times. There were too many instances when they had escaped the clutches of their overprotective parents, and she had chatted them both into a club in the neighbouring larger town.

She returned with drinks and sat in front of Delia. Eyes expectant.

“Well I know most of everything from Facebook and our emails but you have been very quiet for the last few months. WHAT has been happening in the life of my favourite nurse?” She spoke breathlessly, full of excitement.

“This and that!” Deflected Delia.

Amy narrowed her eyes, detecting Delia’s reluctance.

“I met your mam in the post office and she told me a little. So…the sexy red head – the one with the fuck off amazing sports car? What happened?”

Straight to the point as usual. Delia loved and hated her for it in equal measure. Delia made a mental note to tell her mother not to discuss her private life with people she met in the post office, even if it was Amy. She exhaled and began….

 

After three drinks, one a shot Amy had insisted they had, Delia had finished updating Amy on all things Patsy.

“Well…I’m not impressed!” The blonde Welsh woman stated matter-of-factly, “Yes, you shouldn’t have copped off with your ex…but….” Amy held up her hand to stop Delia’s protestations.

“You definitely didn’t deserve THAT reaction.” Amy shook her head, “She needs to sort her shit Delia, for sure! Even if she is loaded!” She quickly swallowed her drink and carried on giving Delia counsel.

“When I found out that Davey had cheated on me, I didn’t blank him, I told him what for…I tell you! What I can say Delia, is that she fucking loved you ...for sure!” Amy slurred the last few words.

Delia blinked at her old friend.

“Why do you say that?” She asked.

“…’cos…NOBODY does what she did if they weren’t completely head over heels in love and weren’t hurting big time.”

Delia wasn’t so sure. People in love don’t go off and shag around immediately she thought. Although Patsy hadn’t confirmed her promiscuous deeds, she had pretty much insinuated it in the ADHIP meeting.

“Someone 'so in love' shouldn’t sleep around in the two months they weren’t speaking to that ‘love!’ _Not_ if they wanted to be with them.”

Amy weighed up Delia’s point.

“Maybe…maybe not…It’s a good way to convince yourself that you don’t need that person anymore, rather than have to admit your real feelings and deal with all that emotional crap!”

“I don’t know.” Delia mused, swirling her wine in the glass and watching the legs run down the inside edge.

Amy sat up bright and breezily, “You know what you need to do Delia!” She beamed, as though the idea that had just come to her was innovative and never tried by anyone before.

“Have a fling… a get over Patsy shag…oh definitely!” Amy sat back, pleased with her suggestion to ease Delia’s woes.

“Well…shoot me down if you don’t want to... _but_ …” Amy held up her hands in defence again, before leaning in and continuing.  

“There’s someone who has moved into town that I think you should meet. She is loooovely! I say great for a bit of fun!”

Amy winked at Delia and took a sip of her drink triumphantly.

“She’s attractive…and single….and very gay. You’d be perfect…not that I’m a matchmaker!” The blonde tried to absolve herself, but Delia could see that she was delighted in her proposition. She wondered how long Amy had been planning this rendezvous.

“Amy!” Delia whined, recoiling slightly from her friend.

“I’m so not ready for anything romantic and especially not here in Wales. I AM going back to London…”

Amy brought her forefinger to her lips in an exaggerated fashion.

“Hush now Delia…she’s not looking for the love of her life! But if you’re here for a few weeks and you happen to meet up…and maybe if you fancy a little…you know!” Amy waggled her eyebrows as she took another sip of her drink, leaving the statement hanging in the air.

Delia looked at her friend, her intentions were good hearted and Delia shook her head at her assertions.   

“How on earth did you meet her Ames? Lesbians were hardly dripping off trees when I was here!”

“Well I was sat next to Sophie during my life art class at the community centre and she made a quip about the male nude we were sketching, which made me nearly drop my palette, and we started talking! Anyway….” Amy continued, full steam ahead, “She has become my new gay girl best friend here in Lil’ Markham now that you have abandoned me for London…she is a teacher at th….”

“Hang on…” Delia interrupted forcefully.  “You’re doing an art class?!” She raised her eyebrows in surprise and mirth. Stifling a giggle.

“Art?! You were shit at Art Amy…Oh this is hilarious.” Delia clapped her hands and rocked back and forth. “Can I see your masterpieces?!”

“Don’t mock Delia...I’m finding art is extremely therapeutic…and calming! Soph is extremely good. Exceptional with her hands!” Amy commented knowingly, with an arched eyebrow over her wine glass.

Delia shook her head at her friend’s innuendo. She thought how well she would get on with Trixie. She must get the two of them together. This thought led immediately to London and an image of Patsy invaded in her mind.

Patsy.

She pushed it down, along with the surge of emotion she felt. 

“Anyway, enough of my failed love life!” Delia needed to change tack. “So, YOU are back with Davey O’Sullivan then? I thought the last time we spoke he was a snake for getting involved with that woman from the cafe.”

“Beggars can’t be choosers Delia, in a little town like this. He apologised...we made up and now we are perfectly happy!”

Amy smiled contentedly, much to Delia annoyance. Her friend deserved better, but who was she to judge? She rolled her eyes at her friend’s relationship. She had always been a sucker for Davey. They were destined to be together but he treated her like shit. Seeing Amy’s happy face and thinking about her own complicated situation, Delia reasoned that you just can’t help who you fall in love with.  

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

Delia pulled up on her run and stared out to sea. She had always loved walking the coastal path around her hometown and she had now introduced it into her daily running route. She sat down on a clump of heather, to catch her breath, and watched the white specks of the waves rolling out in the blue abyss. She cast her eyes around the idyll that she had grown up in, and recalled the night she had described her home to Patsy.

 

After an evening of Patsy trying out a new recipe on Delia, the two had naturally fallen into bed before the main course had been finished. Patsy had spent the start of the meal tantalisingly running her foot up the length of Delia’s calf seeking her inner thigh. When Delia couldn’t take the exquisite torture any longer, she stalked around the table, straddled Patsy’s lap and made it clear that the meal was definitely over.

Whilst wrapped around each other, regaining their breath, Patsy had asked Delia what her childhood had been like. Delia recalled describing the ocean and the sense of calm it brought her. About the lush woods and the endless hours of play there with her brothers. She went on to describe her time at secondary school and the mischief Amy and her would get up to. Patsy listened, stroking her hair and gently kissing her forehead. Delia had felt content; she had felt loved.

She had known then that she was falling in love with Patsy. She hadn’t wanted to tell her yet; afraid she would make the Consultant skittish and run a mile. But she knew Patience Mount was it. She had found what she had always wanted. Love, desire and friendship.

 

The recollection of this memory brought with it a feeling of sorrow. A yearning that ate away at her delicate and bruised heart. She brushed away a tear.

She wasn’t over Patsy.

She hadn’t moved on yet.

She shook herself; this wouldn’t do! She needed to get home and get ready for her date with the woman that Amy had set her up with. Sophie.

A nice name. A friendly name.

She would go out and have fun. That’s what Patsy would do, so she would do it too. Of course she could. Beautiful, beguiling Patsy Mount would always be in her heart but just not in her life. She needed to get used to that thought - however much it hurt. She stood and brushed off the bits of grass that had stuck to her and looked out again across the ocean. As the breeze whipped her hair, she thought how she had hoped to bring Patsy here one day, and share this part of her life with her. But this would never happen now. The tendrils of sadness wove themselves again around her chest and she breathed in the salty air to steady herself.

Right Busby, what to wear?

Delia lifted her feet and started padding back home, deciding what impression she wanted to make on this other woman. 

 

\---

 

Delia sat at the bar of the restaurant tapping the fine stem of her glass nervously. She had gone for a fun and friendly look, rather than knock out spectacular. This was her home town and she didn’t want people to talk and speculate. At least in London she was anonymous. Here, what you bought in the local shop was hot gossip within minutes. So Delia decided wearing something inconspicuous wouldn’t reveal too much about her intentions for the evening. 

She couldn’t work out if she was feeling apprehensive due to this ‘date’ being set up by her friend or because she felt the ridiculous notion that she was cheating on Patsy. She was still caught in this thought when a woman entered, making her way over to the tall stools. Delia saw the confident stride and was immediately reminded of another self-possessed woman she knew. She was tall, not as tall as Patsy though, and her face fell into a warm smile of greeting as she approached Delia. Her dark wavy hair framing her face.

Delia quickly assessed her. She could fancy her.

“Delia?” She asked questioning, inclining her head slightly.

Delia returned the question with a full dimpled beam, which immediately put the other woman at ease. Sophie gently laughed and extended her hand.

“Hi, I’m Sophie. Amy insisted we meet!” Delia returned the laugh as she shook the woman’s hand. It was soft and smooth.

Delia rolled her eyes at the mention of her friend, “Yes, she did…I hope we don’t disappoint her!”

Sophie chuckled at the statement. “Indeed!” She grimaced at the thought. “Shall we get our table?”

 

\---

 

The meal had progressed easily. As Amy had promised, Sophie was an easy-going dinner companion with a raft of amusing anecdotes. She had Delia laughing as she recollected incidents about her students and their secondary school antics.

“Amy has told me about your many exploits when you were both at the school!” She smiled cheekily, as though let into a shared secret. 

Delia raised an eyebrow, hoping that some of her adventures had not been told to this woman.

“I’m sure it’s nothing that you haven’t seen year on year!” Delia giggled, catching the woman’s eye.

The more they drank, Delia’s could swear the woman’s gentle flirty nature was becoming more apparent. Or was it perhaps her own? Either way the hazel eyes opposite, were now holding hers longer and they were accompanied with knowing half smiles.

She allowed her body to react to them. On her nights-out with Trixie and Mike in London, she had fought any instinctive yearnings. They hadn’t felt right, having not heard from Patsy. Now was different. She enjoyed the feeling of someone finding her attractive. Sophie excused herself to go to the bathroom and Delia needed no encouragement to watch her retreating form. Her own eyes dipped and took in the full length of Sophie's body. Fuelled by the alcohol, she felt a tug somewhere deep as she took in the curve of her pert behind in tight jeans.

Delia hadn’t really contemplated being with someone other than Patsy. The kiss with Emma had felt wrong the moment her mind had engaged into realising what they were doing. The few women that she had exchanged numbers with, in the clubs around Soho, hadn’t produced any kind of mind blowing physical reaction when they had locked lips.

However, it had been so very different with Patsy…

Every time they touched Delia craved more. She could never get enough of her. Each caress was electric. From small strokes of tender love to full, deep, lip-biting thrusts. The memory of each coursed through her and made her close her eyes with desire.

She inhaled to steady herself. She’d had too much to drink. She had to give someone else an opportunity. It may never be the same, but she had to continue to search for it again with someone else. Patsy sure as hell wasn’t coming back.

Fortunately, Delia had composed herself by the time the dark-haired woman had returned. They had settled the bill when Sophie peered at Delia through her dark lashes.

“I’ve had a really great time with you Delia. I don’t suppose you’d like to get another drink at mine?” She asked, surprisingly hesitant; the confidence not as defined as Patsy.

“It’s fine if you don’t…”

Delia looked at the woman who had started to worry her lip with her teeth. There was no need for this attractive woman to ever doubt that someone would want to go home with her. Delia answered assuredly, trying to force close the bespoke rosewood box that she knew she had to put Patience Mount in.

“Absolutely, let me get my coat.”

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

Mrs Busby was pretending to dust the cabinet directly behind where her daughter was sat absentmindedly doodling on a pad. Delia was researching interior decorating ideas and had settled for colour schemes that had inadvertently mirrored what was in Patsy’s home in Chelsea. Mrs Busby’s face had changed from curiosity to outright concern when she spotted, over Delia’s shoulder, that she was drawing a mountain and put two and two together as to what, or who, was plaguing her daughter’s mind. 

“We need to talk cariad.” She spoke resolutely, shaking Delia from her daydream, “I can’t be silent about it any longer.” 

Delia sat up sharply at her mother’s words, anxiety coursed through her. She looked down at her piece of paper, eyes assessing what her mother had seen on the page. She tore it from the pad and screwed it into a ball as her mother began. 

“Patsy Mount.” 

The words were spoken in a less than a favourable tone by Mrs Busby as she pulled out a chair opposite Delia. Delia didn’t like to hear Patsy’s name being spoken in that way and immediately bristled defensively. She knew her mother wanted to speak about her failed relationship with the Consultant but Delia knew she herself, would never be ready to do so. 

“What about her Mam?” Delia bit back, crossing her arms across her chest. 

Mrs Busby pursed her lips at her daughter’s stance and raised an eyebrow to show her dislike for the way she had retaliated. Both looked at each other. 

Silence. 

Neither relented. This was the way most exchanges had played out during Delia’s formative years. A battle of wills. The relationship between the pair had thawed once Delia had left Little Markham for University and then afterwards to London. Delia’s maturity into adulthood had allowed her to grow perspective and understanding on her mother’s behaviour. She had come to realise that the brusque overprotectiveness was in fact her way of showing she cared and loved her more than anything. It was just so damn difficult to live with. 

Delia’s strong shoulders relaxed a fraction as she remembered this, and acquiesced to the inevitable conversation. 

“How are you?” The older woman asked.

Delia was surprised by her mother’s concern. She didn’t know how to answer, so stuttered out a response. Hoping to nullify her. 

“Ummm….fine….great…” 

Mrs Busby narrowed her eyes across the table. She leant in and reached out, taking Delia’s hands in hers. The act alone, made hot tears form in the younger brunette’s eyes. Delia looked down at where her mother was rubbing her thumbs across the backs of her knuckles. 

“It’s obvious that she meant a great deal to you.” Her tender tone was welcome but felt a little alien to Delia. It was quickly replaced with the familiar and usual sting.

“It was a shame we never met…In fact, if we met now, I’d have plenty I’d like to say to her.”

“Mam!” Delia rebuked, but the older Busby wasn’t finished. 

“Well really Delia! She thinks that she is better than you? She thinks she can call it off and break my little girl’s heart? It is not on…really it isn’t!” 

“It’s more complicated than that Mam!” Delia protested, removing her hands from her mothers and sliding them under the table, out of reach. Taking a deep breath, she gave a potted outline of how events unfolded back in London. Delia couldn’t look her mother fully in the eye as she spoke. Mrs Busby sat quiet, listening to her daughter open her heart. It wasn’t quite what she expected; she could feel Delia’s anguish and regret. She now understood the turmoil of the last few months. Patsy wasn’t wholly to blame, but there was plenty that she could have done in the meantime to have prevented Delia’s descent. 

She hated that she hadn’t been turned to. That Delia hadn’t wanted her during her distress. But, she was here now and she would make it up to her daughter. Although, the heartache of the previous months were buried underneath her surface, on the face of it, Delia was determined to move on. Mrs Busby knew that it was easier said than done. Rather than focus on the past, and the obvious love that Delia had lost, she asked about the here and now; hoping that it may refocus her daughter away from drawing mountains, when she thought no one was looking.

“What about this teacher, the friend of Amy’s?”

Delia scrunched her brow at her mother’s question. How did she know about her? Mrs Busby could see the confusion on her daughter’s face. She clarified her insider knowledge.

“I met Amy…she mentioned you met up with her the other night...Sophie is it?” She enquired, knowing full well the name of the teacher that lived in the town. When Amy had spoken to her in hushed tones, about the date she had set up for Delia, Mrs Busby couldn’t have been more delighted with the thought that Delia might fall for a local girl. Having all her family around her again in Little Markham, filled her with immeasurable pleasure.

Damn Amy, Delia cursed to herself, looking at her mother’s far from innocent face. Her old friend really needed to be more circumspect with giving out the details about her love life. Her date with Sophie went well. Really well. They had met subsequently for coffee and continued to chat easily, as they had done at the meal. Sophie’s work had meant that they hadn’t seen each other for a few days and that was fine by Delia. Keep it casual, nothing serious. 

“I just want you to be happy Cariad. You deserve that.” Mrs Busby interrupted Delia’s thoughts with her well-meaning intentions. 

“I am Mam….” 

Her mother looked at her. The usual spark that lit up her daughter’s bright blue eyes wasn’t there, she wasn’t convinced by her words. 

“Or…I will be…just…not yet. Okay?” Delia looked up, straight into her mother’s eyes and held the plea in the air. There was nothing Mrs Busby could say to that. 

Delia smiled and made to stand up, “I need to get ready for the match!” 

Mrs Busby watched as Delia pushed her chair back and shut down her laptop. 

“The others are meeting me in the pub. Are you sure you won’t join us?” Delia asked genuinely, knowing her mother’s likely response. 

“Oh cariad, you know I don’t like Rugby!” She laughed, half to herself. 

Delia squeezed her mother’s shoulder. Laughing, she teased her Mam.

“Good good! Keep the home fires burning…like a good woman…we’ll be back later after a few pints!” She winked, as her mother batted her off up the stairs. 

Turning around in her seat, Mrs Busby followed her daughter's ascent up the stairs. Oh, how she needed someone to cherish her, she thought. To love her whole heartedly and give her everything she desired. Delia had the kindest heart and the person who held it needed to be deserving of it. She dearly missed having her daughter live close by, but she knew that Little Markham never could keep the whirlwind that was Delia Anwen Busby.

***

Delia, dressed in a familiar red rugby shirt, was bent down tying her laces; ready to make her way to the pub. She could hear her mother on the phone; her incredulous voice coming through from the kitchen.

“It’s what? I don’t believe you!” 

Delia entered the kitchen, tying her hair back into a ponytail, flashing her mother a quizzical look at the unusual tone to her voice. 

“Are you sure?” 

Mrs Busby held her hand over the receiver and leant towards her daughter. 

“Delia, there is a yacht moored in the harbour!”

That sentence alone, surprised Delia. Little Markham was not known as a place where yachts moored. The odd fishing boat, or dinghy that a family might take out, but not a yacht. Delia shrugged at her mother and made for the door.

“…and it’s named after you!” 

Delia stalled. Her face drained. She spun round to face Mrs Busby, who was still holding the phone away from her mouth.

“Any idea who would have a yacht named after my only daughter?” Her eyebrows rose in curiosity but loaded with knowing. 

Delia’s eyes widened and with haste, grabbed her coat and sprinted for the back door with Mrs Busby calling after her. 

*** 

There was a little gathering, dressed mostly in Welsh red, on the quayside. The patrons of the local pub had come out in force, as word had spread that there was an unfamiliar sight in the town. Being so close knit, the neighbourhood had come out to investigate. Delia slowed to a jog as the boat came into view. 

It was a significant size. The Princess 75 yacht stood out spectacularly in the small harbour. The flybridge stood as high as the harbour wall, with its state of the art navigation controls evident. The deck area had plenty of seating and an area for relaxed sunbathing. Through the full height windows Delia could see a large dining area, designed for entertaining. She exhaled at the sight of its sleek lines; radiating power and speed. Her eyes scanned across the vessel, settling on its bow. There in bold blue lettering inscribed onto the hull, it was clear and bold: ‘Delia Anwen’. 

Her stomach lurched. 

It was too much a coincidence. Her eyes flicked up, raking the yacht for its skipper. The mutterings grew louder behind her as people had noticed Delia’s arrival. In the small community, where everyone knew each other, the presence of the real Delia Anwen Busby, stood next to a yacht bearing her name, was noted with significance. 

It was her legs that Delia noticed first. 

Long, shapely and achingly familiar. 

Her stomach convulsed again. Sat on the deck wearing cut off jean shorts, exposing one of her many assets, Patsy reclined reading a book. Totally unaffected by the hubbub around her. Her hair was windswept and tied back, a picture of perfect messy elegance. Her blue eyes were obscured by sunglasses and her full lips were pursed in concentration as she read. 

Delia’s world went silent and still.

Patsy was here. 

A flood of longing and love swept through Delia. She was here. In that moment, all the upheaval of the last few months vanished and Delia wanted nothing more than to jump on board and drag her down under deck. Run her hands through the messy red hair and remind her why she should never have blanked her for so long. 

Then reality hit. What was she doing here? Why now? The anger bubbled inside her briefly. 

“Well you’ve caused quite a stir!” Delia heard herself saying, before her mind caught on; directing her comment at the lounging woman. At the familiar lilting voice, the red head of Patsy snapped up and broke into a wide grin. She placed down her book, lifted her glasses slowly and maintaining full eye contact with Delia throughout, rose to her feet. She held onto a side rope for support and continued to beam at the Welsh woman. She lifted her hand nervously in greeting. 

“Hi Deels!” she said, almost sheepishly. 

Delia stood still on the quayside; the boat in front of her bobbing gently up and down. Patsy was standing on the deck of a yacht - named after her - in her home harbour! The situation felt unreal. They didn’t break eye contact. The intensity that always existed between them was there again. Delia swallowed hard; she suddenly felt light headed. 

Patsy broke the gaze and gestured to her boat, “I’d really like it if you came aboard Delia.” 

The Welsh woman looked Patsy up and down, trying not to rest her eyes anywhere for too long. She then looked the vessel over, replying cautiously. 

“You might have to give me a hand!” 

She made her way hesitantly over to the ladder affixed to the harbour wall, and started to climb down towards Patsy’s out-stretched hopeful hand. 

*** 

“Why are you here Patsy?” 

Delia asked tentatively as they made their way from the deck down into the spacious cabin below. Patsy walked over to a table strewn with books and a nautical map. A laptop sat open with its desktop showing an image of her and Delia laughing. Delia remembered Trixie taking the image during their pub run. Patsy was wearing Delia’s headband and both were mid-laugh at something Trixie had said. Delia’s chest fluttered seeing the picture, she had packed her pictures of Patsy away. 

“Although the yacht works off GPS…” Patsy began, moving some papers around, searching for something underneath. 

“…I have also been trying to use this to get here…” She stopped as she found what she was looking for, and turned towards Delia, flipping it open. 

“…as its owner instructed me to do!” 

Delia’s eyes were drawn to the object nestled in Patsy’s hands. She swallowed against the lump in her throat. Tears pricked her eyes as she saw her compass. The gift she had left Patsy, with a plea to find her again, and to give them a second chance. Delia’s eyes met the clear blue of Patsy’s and felt the charge again that held between them. She felt her chest constrict as Patsy spoke with determination. 

“I’m here Delia…to take you home with me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Star award goes to Gwalia who guessed right about what was being fitted out! In her honour, I used her suggestion of yacht for Ms Mount. I was going for a Sunseeker until I watched their 'aspirational' promo and felt that Patsy wasn't 'THAT' much of a wanker! ;-) 
> 
> The other half has a penchant for Scottish lady singers with guitars, so if I were to copy the outro idea from NotaDogWarden, this chapter would end with Amy Macdonald's 'Down by the water'. Have no fear, I will not be 'outtroing' another chapter, I'll leave that to others more qualified!


	8. Chapter 8

Patsy didn’t do pints. Not even as a student. Wine she knew. Whiskey…even better. But pints? No, they were not Patsy’s drink; definitely not her friend. She concluded this thought after swaying into the rather gruff large man to her right-hand side. He just laughed and grabbed her in a sweaty bear hug. When Patsy extracted herself from it, she looked over to where Delia stood in the corner of the pub. She had lost the ability to read Delia’s expression after the fourth pint of the local speciality. She was stood with the blonde woman, who Patsy had been introduced to earlier. Anne? Anna? Amy! Patsy could swear, when she caught Delia’s eye, that she read longing there. Her eyes dipping away, when Patsy met them, indicating that she had been watching her and was embarrassed to be caught out. However, at times, she could detect annoyance. This was mostly after Patsy had been in deep conversation with the men that were surrounding her. They included the brother’s Busby.

\--- 

After Patsy had revealed her intent on the yacht. Delia became overwhelmed. She had dropped onto a seat and stared up at the hopeful red head. It was too much. Patsy was here in her home, Little Markham. She had bought a boat, named it after her and sailed it here to take her home with her. It was everything and nothing that she wanted all in one. She looked around at the yacht. If ever there was a statement of intent, it was here wrapped up in fibre glass and steel.

Delia couldn’t formulate thought, let alone coherent words. She had to excuse herself from the moment, get off the yacht. She told a half truth, that she needed to meet someone. As she spoke, she couldn’t look into Patsy’s eyes, fearing what she would see there. The Consultant had just tilted her head and smiled calmly. The slight flare of her nostrils, as she inhaled sharply, the only tell that she had been affected by what Delia had said...or not said.

Delia had stumbled around the quayside to the benches opposite and sent out an SOS to Amy. As she waited for her friend to come, she watched Patsy leave the yacht and head into the town's pub. Crap. She had come to Little Markham and she meant business. Ten minutes later, with calmness restored, Delia received a message from her old friend.

**We are in the pub. Match is starting - can’t leave!**

Delia rolled her eyes at the refusal to leave the watering hole. Another message pinged through, almost instantly.

**Get here Busby! The posh red head who owns the boat in the harbour is buying the whole pub drinks! Do y’reckon she knows how much rugger lads can drink?! Fool!**

Bugger. Delia pocketed her phone and marched towards the sound of ‘Land of my Fathers’ being belted out from the local pub on the waterfront. Outside, she took a deep breath and pushed open the doors. As Delia entered the lively pub she took in the Welsh dragon flags that were strung up across each wall, setting the atmosphere for the big match. Little Markham loved rugby. Wales loved rugby. The Busby’s loved rugby. She stopped short as her eyes fixed immediately on a group of rowdy men at the bar. Right in their midst, pint in her hand, laughing hard was Patsy. She was in her element. She was never one to fear an unfamiliar social occasion and by the looks at it she already had the crowd in the palm of her hand.

Delia’s eyebrow rose significantly when she saw who was currently vying for her attention.

“Huw!” Delia exclaimed, marching over to the gathering.

Huw Busby was five years older than Delia. He married his school girlfriend at eighteen, started a carpentry company and had produced three more Busby’s for the clan.

“Delia…finally…glad you made it!” He boomed out across the pub, walking over and enveloping his sister in a hug; lifting her slightly off the ground. He gestured at Patsy behind him,

“Did you know this woman has a boat…. and its named Delia Anwen! What a bloody coincidence!”

Delia rose an eyebrow at how dense her brother was being.

“Huw….you tool….it’s not a coincidence.” She replied quietly as Huw pulled away from the hug and looked back at the red head, who had been watching the exchange out the corner of her eye with interest. Delia watched his face as he looked back and forth, processing thoughts extraordinarily slowly. Sometimes Delia wondered how they were even related.

“Oh…oh….OH!” He finally stuttered out, as realisation dawned. “Shit….Mam is going to be so pissed off!” He whispered to Delia. “Look at Dad!”

Delia peered around her older brother to see Patsy deep in conversation with her father. Rarely did Delia see her father so animated, but whatever Patsy was discussing with him, it had him enrapt. Mam wouldn’t be pleased.

Just then Delia noticed Amy coming out the toilet, phone in hand, clearly reading her messages from Delia properly. She saw the moment when the penny dropped. Her eyes widened by the second. Standing just behind Patsy, drink in hand, she gestured exaggeratedly at the back of the red head. Delia could make out she was mouthing the words, ‘OMG Patsy!’ Delia scrunched her face in response, making Patsy turn around to take in who Delia was signalling to. Amy instantly adopted a friendly demeanour, shot out the spare hand and introduced herself.

“Hi, I’m Amy. Delia’s old school friend.”

“Patsy. Patsy Mount.” The taller woman responded instantly at the beaming blonde Welsh woman. “I’ve heard all about you from Deels.”

Amy laughed at the comment, a little too hard for Delia’s liking. Delia smiled politely at Patsy and leant forward to grab the arm of her friend, dragging her to the corner of the pub. Amy was beside herself, giddy on drama.

“Jesus Delia. It’s Patsy bloody Mount! She has a boat and she’s here! Wow….she’s gorgeous!”

Amy peered over Delia’s shoulder to get another look at her.

“Better than the pictures online…what is she doing here D?”

Delia closed her eyes and breathed calmly. “She’s come for me.”

The squeal that accompanied the end of the sentence could be heard high in the valleys. Delia’s eyes shot open in reprimand.

“That is so fucking romantic Delia! Oh god, this is epic!”

“Amy!” Delia chided, “What am I going to do?”

\---

 

Patsy’s furtive glances at Delia had continued throughout the evening. Delia couldn’t bring herself to talk to Patsy. Not here in front of everyone. She wasn’t sure she knew what to say. She was torn between elation and despair. She had gone over all this so many times. Now she had been thrown a curve ball and she couldn’t order herself. There was a roar of approval from the large crowd at the bar as Wales scored a try and Patsy was made to down a pint. Delia shook her head in amusement at the sight.

Huw had bumped up to her earlier to drunkenly tell her that Patsy was becoming a Little Markham legend by daring to support the enemy, deep in Welsh territory and had happily accepted the proposed challenge from the lads. For every Welsh try she would down a pint, in return for every English try - they would have to down two. As Patsy insisted on paying, the crowd only loved her more.

She was going to regret this tomorrow Delia thought, watching Patsy wince her way through the dark liquid. She’d never seen her drink beer. It didn’t look as though she was enjoying it. Serves her right Delia continued to muse as Patsy slammed the glass on the bar to indicate she had drained it. The chorused chant of ‘Patsy Patsy’ died down as she swayed off to the ladies.

It was at this point that Delia’s younger brother Gethin, swaggered over. A permanent fixture in the town’s pub, he had spent much of the match, leaning against the bar eyeing the Consultant. Contrasting to Huw, Gethin was very much single and had a reputation of having an eye for the ladies. He often commented to Delia that he should come to London to work the bars, using his devastating Welsh charm. She had frequently told him that the accent wasn’t the key to unlocking the hearts of English women, but he continually dismissed her. He leant back against the wall that Delia was propped against.

“So Delia…”

“Yes Gethin…” she replied, waiting for a nugget of gold to tumble from his mouth. She loved him dearly but she knew something inappropriate was coming.

“She’s really your ex?” He asked incredulously.

“Mmm hmm.” Delia murmured, watching her now talking to her friend Amy. Amy had spent most of her time being moody in the corner with Delia, but her natural curiosity had gotten the better of her and she had spent the last ten minutes conversing with an ever increasingly drunk Patsy. Delia could see that Patsy was struggling to absorb what the fast talking Amy was saying. Her clear blue eyes kept glazing over, making her blink rapidly; trying to clear the fog away. Delia had never seen Patsy drunk like this; it amused her greatly. The sophisticated, self-possessed woman that she knew, was a long way from Chelsea and the control she always tried to maintain.

“Really?!” Gethin replied, “But she’s so…” He didn’t finish his sentence as Delia turned to face him, hands on hip, daring him to complete what he was going to say. He immediately read his sister’s annoyance and stumbled for a word to fill the space.

“So…. _tall!”_ Delia chuckled at the poor attempt to cover his near slight. He leant back again and dropped an shoulder arrogantly.

“I think I’m in there though!” He sniffed before taking a gulp of his ale.

“Seriously Gethin?!” Delia laughed, “Really?! Which part of her being my ex don’t you get?” He looked at his near empty glass, hoping it would magically refill and began to illustrate his point.

“We’ve made a connection, she thinks I’m hilarious! Plus…” He paused, thinking how to put into words, the ‘connection’ he felt he had made with the red head. “When she talks to you…she like…really looks at you!”

Eloquent, Delia thought. “That’s how people have a conversation Gethin. They look at each other! Have you not experienced that with the women you talk to?”

Gethin shrugged, “We don’t usually talk much!”

Delia laughed at her brother’s words and nudged against him affectionately. “Not only would it be highly inappropriate for my brother to hit on my ex, I can categorically state that she is very, very gay dear brother.”

“Really? You sure?”

“Yes!” Delia replied forcefully with laughter, “I think if you compared notes, she’s probably had far more women then you have. Plus, probably more at the same time.”

“God…I love her even more!” He whistled appreciatively. Delia couldn’t help but smile at what impressed her younger brother. She was certain that through all his bravado, he would meet a girl and that would be it. Married within a year and then producing more Busbys. She’d put good money on it.

Amy returned to the corner of the pub that Delia was skulking in, a grin plastered on her face.

“I’m saying nothing!” The blonde stated, resuming her position next to Delia, watching the big screen. A singular cheer, followed by a groan, was heard as England scored their third try of the evening and Patsy waved at the barman to start filling the pots. She looked over to Delia and shrugged at the bet the men had made with her.

“I mean, of course, she’s terrible!” Amy tried lamely to show solidarity with her friend.

Amy smiled weakly as Delia looked down at her glass and quietly admitted to herself, “That’s the trouble though, she isn’t.” 

\---

The match ended and slowly the pub started to filter out. People were in less of a mood to celebrate as England had beaten the Welsh in a hard-fought, tight match. Patsy was happy to remind the bar dwellers of the additional wager they’d made mid-match when the Welsh were up.

“I expect to see you all tomorrow, buckets in hand, ready to scrub it clean. The deck has become a little filthy!”

A barrage of good natured retorts were heard, many involving derogatory comments about the blasted English as they bid Patsy farewell. Delia’s father smiled as he walked over to Delia.

“She’s lovely Delia!” He said patting her on the arm, slurring slightly. “I will have a word with your mother. Still the waters and all that.” He winked. “You coming, cariad?”

Delia looked at her family leaving and at Patsy swaying slightly, trying to retrieve her jacket unsuccessfully from the floor. Her heart constricted at the unusual sight.

“I’m fine, I will help her get back to her boat. I don’t trust she will make it alone! Then I’ll make my way home.” She smiled, her father nodded in understanding.

“Do you need help?” He asked, also watching the English woman struggling to stand up straight.

“I’ll be fine, thanks. Get off, Mam will wonder where we all are!”

As Delia went over and picked up Patsy’s jacket, he stood for a moment and looked back at the pair. Patsy put a hand of thanks on Delia’s arm, making the brunette still. Delia’s father smiled to himself and turned to leave. He could feel how much love existed between them both. Speaking to Patsy this evening had only solidified what he had already assumed. They just had to find a way to admit and prove it to each other.

Delia looked up into Patsy’s blue eyes. Although hazy from the drink, they held hers intently.

“Let’s get you back to your cabin Pats. I don’t want the coast guard to be fishing you out of the harbour in the morning.”

Amy caught Delia’s eye as she slung Patsy’s arm around her neck to steady her. The knowing smile and eyebrow arc, indicated that Amy had her own idea why Delia wanted to take her back to the yacht. Delia didn’t have the energy to protest.

“See you later captain!” Amy called out to Patsy, who smiled lazily and raised a heavy arm to salute Delia’s friend.

 

\---

 

It had taken some effort to take a stumbling Patsy back to her yacht, climb down the harbour wall ladder and down into her cabin. The door to the yacht’s master bedroom slammed open as Delia bundled Patsy through. Delia looked at the neat and well finished room. It was all crisp linens and polished wood; it was very Patience Mount.

Delia lowered Patsy carefully onto the edge of the bed; the red head toed off her shoes and let them fall. As she did so she pulled Delia against her, wrapping her arms around her waist and leant her head against the Welsh woman’s stomach. Delia stood still, unsure how to proceed.

“I’ve missed you Deels…so bloody much.” Patsy’s voice cracked as she inhaled to fight her tears.

In response, Delia tentatively lifted her hands, placing one on Patsy’s back and the other gently cradled her head. Patsy relaxed into the touch as Delia rubbed comforting circles on her back. She had rarely seen the older woman cry and didn’t think she’d cope with experiencing it now.

Patsy looked up at Delia, her blue imploring, “Stay with me…please.”

It had been so long that Delia had felt needed by Patsy. Her chest ached. She couldn’t leave Patsy in this emotional inebriated state. The nurse in her won out and she pulled away from Patsy. Momentarily, rejection raced across Patsy’s face. Then, as she saw that Delia was pulling up a chair and covering herself in a blanket, relief flooded her features. She understood Delia’s reticence and allowed her to settle. She couldn’t expect too much too soon. Delia obviously wasn’t going to fall into her arms. She was going to have to fight for her. That was for tomorrow, but for now Patsy turned off the light, lifted off her top and lay back down on the bed to sleep.

Delia’s cheeks burned slightly at seeing the familiar outline of Patsy’s body in the half light filtering through a porthole, but couldn’t draw her eyes away. She was glad that the darkness hid her physical reaction. Patsy was beautiful. She always had been.

“If you’re going to sleep here, you _are_ allowed to lay on the bed Deels,” she mumbled. “As much as I want to, I’m in no fit state to try anything.”

At this, Patsy rolled onto her stomach to get comfortable and clutched a pillow to her chest. Delia sat quietly listening to Patsy’s breathing. It was rhythmic and soothing. Her own consumption of alcohol was producing a sleepy effect and she started to drift off. The chair wasn’t comfortable and the thought of navigating her way back home again now, did not appeal. When she heard the change in Patsy’s breathing, indicating that the consultant was asleep, she quietly extracted herself and lay down in the empty space next to Patsy.

It was probably a bad idea being this close to the red head again. It was going against everything she had convinced herself of in the last few months. But the pull of Patience was drawing her back in. She needed to tread carefully this time. But in the moment, quietly lying next to the woman she knew she still loved, Delia succumbed to her instincts.

Following the gentle curve of Patsy’s back, she traced her forefinger down the faint scar that marked Patsy’s otherwise perfect skin. As her finger completed its journey, she pressed a kiss to its tip and placed it gently against the point where the blemish ended.

Unseen by Delia, an ever-hopeful Patsy smiled to herself before drifting back off to sleep.


	9. Chapter 9

Delia woke to a purr of an engine and a gentle swaying. She couldn’t work it out at first. The room was unfamiliar. Slowly her brain adjusted and she suddenly remembered where she was. Her eyes widened in surprise. She sat bolt up and looked out one of the portholes in the hull. Water. Water everywhere. They were at sea. 

She rubbed her eyes incredulously and slipped on her pumps. She staggered slightly from the hangover and the movement of the boat. She felt a giddy sensation in her stomach. Was it the yacht or something else? 

As she moved through the decks, she could see that they were already away from the Pembrokeshire coast. What was Patsy doing? She made her way up to the fly deck at the top of the yacht. Climbing the stairs, she saw the back of Patsy, hand holding on to the controls, eyes fixed ahead. She looked so comfortable and competent as a skipper. That didn’t surprise her. She quietly walked over and stood next to her, allowing the red head to register that she was there. Patsy looked up at Delia and started to smirk. Delia shook her head, looked out to the blue sea ahead and gently smiled. 

“So, when did you learn to sail something like this?” Delia asked, eyes looking at the horizon. 

Patsy glanced at the brunette and began, “I sailed and rowed at school. Then Rosie’s family…” she tailed off, flicking a hesitant glance at Delia. The Welsh woman didn’t react so Patsy continued. “They had a boat, we spent a lot of time and holidays on it. This is my first boat though.” 

Delia nodded and turned to face her. She noted that her face had caught the sun and a smattering of freckles had broken out across the bridge of her nose. There was no evidence of a hangover from the exertions from the previous night. How did she manage it? Was she even human? 

“How are you not hungover?” She asked laughing. “I had to pour you into bed and here you are now right as rain, kidnapping me aboard your boat!” 

“I’m not kidnapping you! Just taking you for a ride!” Patsy protested, with a twinkle in her eye. “And for your information, I do have a mild headache. Remind me never to drink beer in the future.” She pulled a disgusted face as Delia responded with a raised eyebrow. 

“You hoping I’m going to be in your future?” 

“Very much so!” Patsy retorted without breaking eye contact. “It starts with abducting you, sailing to the middle of the ocean so I can talk to you…without any interruptions.”

“It seems a little over the top Patsy. You could have just picked up the phone!” Delia returned immediately, walking back to the stairs. “That would have been great at any point in the last two months!”

Patsy turned to the controls and breathed deeply, Delia was going to be difficult to speak to. Maybe this had been a bad idea. She hit the throttle and powered on further out to sea. 

\---

They dropped anchor offshore. All Delia could see was deep blue. She has settled in the middle deck and had begun eating some breakfast that Patsy had already laid out. She looked out of the windows as she absentmindedly picked at some fruit. The Pembrokeshire coast had disappeared and now she was utterly alone with Patience Mount. The prospect of this made her stomach convulse with anxiety but she also had to admit there was an edge of exhilaration fluttering away too. 

She saw Patsy through the front windows on the sun deck below. She had gone to sit at the edge of the vessel, her long limbs dangled over the edge. She saw Delia watching her from above and beckoned for her to join her. Delia couldn’t put off the inevitable, it wasn’t as though she had anywhere to go. Delia picked up two mugs of coffee and fixed one the way she knew Patsy liked it, and made her way to where the red head was perched. 

Delia placed down the coffee, sat carefully and crossed her legs. Patsy smiled her thanks and leant against the rail that skirted the edge of the yacht. She dropped her chin onto her crossed arms, closed her eyes and breathed in slowly, allowing the sun to warm her face. Delia watched Patsy visible relax. There was a comfortable silence between them as Delia took a sip of coffee. Both were being lulled by the gentle bobbing of the boat. The proximity felt familiar and easy; Delia didn’t want to argue. 

“Patsy, you named your yacht after me.” She whispered. 

Patsy turned her head and slowly opened her eyes. Delia had forgotten how blue the other woman’s eyes were, and momentarily stopped breathing. Holding Delia’s gaze, she replied sincerely. 

“A boat is named after someone important in the captain’s life.”

“Oh…” Delia felt her face redden and swallowed nervously. She looked away, unable to bare Patsy’s intensity. 

Without moving her head or changing her tone, Patsy continued, “You are Deels. You’re extremely important to me.” 

Delia wanted to be angry after all that had happened but the words made her feel wanted and loved. She felt as though that was what she needed at the moment. She turned back shyly to face the older woman and gradually broke out into a small smile.

“A boat? That’s crazy though!” She laughed and nudged Patsy’s side. Patsy’s face crumpled into a lopsided smile. 

“It seemed appropriate. I can’t etch your name onto the new Aston Martin!”

 

Gradually, Patsy’s easiness ebbed away. She took a sip of coffee as though she was steeling herself for what she had to say. She drew herself up and crossed her legs, sitting in front of Delia. She bit her lip and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. She looked at Delia directly, making the brunette’s head thump in her chest. 

“I’m sorry Delia but I haven’t been an angel since we…"

Patsy trailed off, head hung shamefully. She picked and pulled at the laces on her deck shoes as though it would distract from her confession. Delia’s heart clenched at the words. She squeezed her eyes closed. A jagged pain tore through her chest and she let out a shaky breath. 

“I guessed Pats…how many?” She asked, her unsteady voice unable to mask her betrayed hurt emotion. Patsy answered in a barely audible whisper.

“I’m not sure…”

Delia inhaled sharply.

“Gosh that many?” She croaked hoarsely, arms suddenly wrapped around herself forming a protective shield. She couldn’t look at Patsy. She knew they weren’t a couple and shouldn’t feel betrayed but the bile rose in her throat. Delia didn’t want to think about Patsy wrapped around another woman but she couldn’t help it. She didn’t want to picture a beautiful woman writhing against Patsy. In Patsy. 

“I understand…I wouldn’t have expected anything less Patience.” She breathed, the words choking her. “We weren’t together. You were single. Free to do as you wanted.”  
Patsy shuddered. She saw the disappointment. The revulsion. She had lived up to the image Delia had of her once. 

“I don’t like myself Delia, if that makes it any better?” Patsy tried to reason.

“Not really!” Delia sighed, pushing herself to her knees and up to standing. She gripped the rail and went to stand at the bow. She really could do with not being in the middle of the sea right now. She couldn’t escape Patsy and all the feelings that the blasted woman conjured within her. 

Patsy lay her head back against the deck. She questioned whether she should have told her. Dorothy had said that the truth didn’t have to be told. However, Patsy felt she needed to be honest with Delia. If she wanted Delia to trust her again, she had to tell her, didn’t she? 

\---

Standing at the front of the boat, Delia closed her eyes. Tears were flooding her lids. She couldn’t hold them in. She hated how quickly Patsy had gotten over her. Delia had spent the time apart in physical pain hoping for a reconciliation. What of Patsy? Her anger and disappointment in Delia had pushed her into acting in a way that would wound Delia the most. She went out and shagged London. Of course she did, what else would Patience Mount do? 

She had thought she meant something more to Patsy. She had been taken her to her childhood home. She had been introduced to her family. Patsy revealed more of herself to Delia than anyone previously, or so she had been told. Delia had hoped naively that this would have prevented Patsy taking the course she did. But Delia knew, it was for these reasons why Patsy had acted as she did. Her own betrayal sealing the lid on the relationship. Patsy couldn’t handle her own feelings for Delia and gone back to what she knew rather than face the pain of them. 

But now Patsy was here and wanted her again. Everything Delia had done was forgiven. However, could she forget the last few months? Could she forget what Patsy had done with others and with how she treated her? She needed answers. 

Delia returned and crouched next to Patsy. Her voice pained and laced with defeated acceptance. 

“Did you think of me at all?” She asked and saw Patsy not know how to answer. She shook her head to clarify her question, “Not when you were with them, but when we were apart? Because I thought about you every bloody minute Patsy. You were all that was on my mind. Patience fucking Mount all day, every day.”

Patsy looked up at Delia’s face. She could see the hurt the revelation had done. But it seemed Delia was trying to give her something to grab onto. Trying to give Patsy a lifeline back to her. Perhaps giving her hope? 

“Yes, of course…plenty of times…I just didn’t know how to sort it.” 

Delia slumped down next to her and laid against the deck alongside Patsy. 

“Your silence was agony Pats.” Delia whispered, “I just wanted to know you were okay. I’m so glad I didn’t know about the others during that time. At least you were discreet, it’s heart-breaking thinking of you with someone else.” 

Patsy shot her an apologetic look. Delia continued. 

“I still believed, even then, we had something still. I was waiting, hoping that what we’d shared would be enough for you to get over my idiotic kiss. When you didn’t contact me, I thought you were working things out. If I’d known you were fucking others…well…”

“I’m not proud of it.” Patsy interrupted, trying to appease. 

“Good, you shouldn’t be…you’re so much better than that Patsy!” Delia chided, exasperated. 

“Obviously I’m not!” Patsy huffed, sitting up. “I reverted to type, didn’t I? I pressed self-destruct myself!”

Delia sighed at Patsy, looking out to see calmed her down a fraction.

“But you’re here now with me, with a boat bearing my name…it may have taken months…but…”

Delia paused. “What do you actually want Patsy?” 

Patsy closed her eyes, fortifying herself. She opened them, sat up and with clarity stated. 

“I want you Delia Busby…with everything that I have.” 

Delia looked deeply at Patsy. She read regret in her blue eyes. So much had happened; she had tried to move on and now Patience Mount was back again pulling at her aching core. The conflict continued to rage inside Delia. 

“I put you in a box Pats. I adopted your school of thought. It was beautiful rosewood bespoke box.” She chuckled, “Patsy Mount and her infuriating charm got locked away. I accepted I was short lived…I accepted I had fucked it up…I’d accepted that I’d thrown away probably the relationship of my life.”

Patsy watched Delia bearing her feelings over the last few months and felt nothing short of guilt for what she had done. Through her own selfish actions, she had stripped apart the carefree, fun loving woman that Delia had once been. Could she help her find it again? 

“I started to live with my self-inflicted broken heart.” She continued. “But now you are here! Wanting something from me again. It’s not that easy Patsy. I cant keep experiencing all these emotions!” Delia’s mind and body was reeling, unable to process everything that was happening. 

She wanted Patsy to realise it wasn’t going to be simple. She had changed. She had tried to start living without her. She bit out, without thinking. 

“I’ve started seeing someone.” The words hit Patsy cold and hard. She wasn’t expecting it. They cannoned around in her head. Of course Delia might be seeing someone. She had been with others in the meantime so why not Delia? But it seemed wrong, Delia wasn’t like that, she had always been better than Patsy. 

Shakily she asked, “Have you slept with her?”

Delia looked at Patsy defiantly and with control, “That’s none of your business!”

Patsy wasn’t going to let Delia go, she would show Delia that she meant more to her than the other woman would ever. 

“Maybe not Delia but I want to make you my business.”

Delia stood looking at her. 

Patsy knew she needed to say it. To let Delia hear it. 

“I love you Delia Anwen Busby. I have been a shit. I know that. I should have spoken to you and I regret that wholeheartedly. I don’t expect your forgiveness or for you to want me again but I needed to at least try.” Her eyes blinked with tears, “I had to come here and tell you that I love you.” 

\---

Patsy had left Delia shell shocked on the sundeck and had retreated back up to the flybridge. She gave her time to think about what she had said. Patsy didn’t expect an immediate reply but at least she had been able to say what she wanted. Even if Delia rejected her, or went off with this other woman, she had said it. She would have no regrets. It had been hard; emotional declarations left Patsy feeling drained. How did people do it all the time? She was glad she had never been in love before. 

Delia had sat on the sofas looking out to sea, the sun making her stretch out her tired body. Everything Patsy had said was what she had been longing to hear. Yet it left her feeling empty and strangely complete at the same time. Patsy loved her still. Her heart fluttered at the thought of a future with her again. However, Patsy had been so quick to fall into past habits. Picking up women when things didn’t go right. Could she trust her? Delia was interrupted by a loud shout from above and behind. 

“Delia! Come here.” Patsy called. “C’mon up here…take a look…”

Delia wasn’t sure what Patsy was shouting her for but the red head seemed insistent, she made her way to the upper deck where Patsy was situated. 

“Deels, I can’t bare to see you down because of me…it isn’t you.” Patsy said as her head appeared over the ladder. She glanced down at her feet nervously as Delia came closer. “I don’t expect a resolution immediately…hell I’d wait a lifetime for you to decide if you wanted me.”

Delia took in the apologetic form in front of her. Of course she wanted her; she wanted nobody else. There could never be anyone else to match the beautiful red head. However, the old fears and concerns were still there. The ostentatious display of wealth the yacht represented did nothing to quell the reservations she had about being in a relationship with someone so affluent. God, it was all so difficult. Delia ran her hand down Patsy’s arm, making a connection but not yet a commitment. Patsy inhaled at the feeling and turned to face the window and the sea beyond. She knew it was the best she was going to get from the Welsh woman at the moment. 

Patsy smiled gently, “Look out there…I hoped we’d see them.” She pointed out across the open water. Delia couldn’t see what Patsy was indicating to at first and then the specks made themselves clear. 

Dolphins. 

As Delia craned to see them more closely Patsy scampered off away in hunt of something. The brunette picked up a pair of binoculars and adjusted the sight to her vision. They came into view clearly, a large family of bottlenose dolphins were diving and surfacing off the starboard side of the yacht. 

Patsy returned, and from the lower deck shouted up, “Right, throw this on Deels! It’s not exactly the Maldives but we won’t be in long.” 

Delia turned at the sound of her nickname and immediately her face coloured. Patsy was already one leg into a wetsuit and wiggling the other leg into the tight material. Delia swallowed watching the sight of a slender Patsy, every curve familiar, pulling on the skin-tight suit. She wasn’t sure how she’d removed her clothes so quickly and questioned whether she was living permanently in a bikini aboard the boat. Patsy looked up and caught Delia’s watching eye. A slight smile played across her lips. 

She chose not to indulge in it. “C’mon...they will pass by if you don’t hurry up!” She picked up the suit that was on the floor and held it out for Delia. Delia looked at it with apprehension. They were going swimming?

“I hope it’s an okay fit…they don’t really do petite legs in wetsuits! You may have to roll them up!” She laughed to herself, her own wetsuit fitting like a glove. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll turn my back…I know you don’t have swim wear as I abducted you.” She laughed. “I won’t watch.” She teased, turning her back as she zipped herself in using the pull chord. “Although I am tempted!” 

The colour flooded Delia’s cheeks again at the flirty comment and she made her way down to the deck and picked up the suit that Patsy seemed to have available for her. Had she fitted this boat out with her in mind? Thought about every possibility? Delia struggled into the suit; it was much harder that it appeared for Patsy. Surprisingly, it was a good fit and as she smoothed it down, she saw that Patsy was at the side looking through the binoculars again. Retying her ponytail, she joined her and started to fiddle with her suit’s cord. This was crazy: the Pembrokeshire coast was not known for its warm waters. 

Patsy could see the younger woman was having trouble, “Turn around, let me do you up,” she insisted. Holding onto her hip, she ran the zip up her spine and secured it at the collar. She trailed the hand back down across the material, making Delia close her eyes at the contact. They flitted open again hearing Patsy’s voice. 

“It won’t exactly be swimming with Dolphins…more being in the sea at the same time as dolphins. But it’s the best we are going to get off the coast of Pembrokeshire!” Patsy’s beamed. Her enthusiasm was infectious and Delia grinned back at her. Thoughts of the previous conversation were presently on hold. What she was going to do about Patsy Mount could wait for now. 

Patsy launched herself into the sea, taking Delia by surprise. It was unlike the red head to throw caution to the wind like that, however, it was also unlike Patsy to sail half way round the country after a woman, Delia thought. She laughed out loud again, shaking her head at the mystifying Ms Mount and decided she’d just enjoy the moment. 

Patsy surfaced shouting expletives about the temperature. 

“Get in Busby…Now! I think mild hypothermia is already setting in!”

Patsy experienced Delia’s daredevil side during the Tough Trekkers challenge and wasn’t surprised to see her dive head first, off the boat. She came up for air close to where Patsy was treading water. Her wide eyes and open mouth, confirming Patsy’s temperature comment. 

“The last time we were in water Deels. There was a very satisfactory outcome!” The red head winked flirtatiously before confidently swimming away. The water instantly cooled Delia’s once again burning cheeks. She hated and loved that Ms Mount could affect her so easily. 

As predicted, the pair didn’t exactly swim with dolphins but the inquisitive family did come close enough for them to hear the air expelled from their blow hole. The uncontained joy was written on both their faces as they saw the creatures come closer. Delia swam over to Patsy and placed a hand on her waist underwater. She smiled at the Consultant and laughed at the insane marine adventure she had thrown her into. 

“Patsy Mount...what am I going to do with you?” She teased, removing the hand to help assist staying afloat. 

“I have many responses to that Nurse Busby! Which do you want to hear?” She returned, quirking an eyebrow. Delia rolled her eyes humorously and splashed Patsy with the salty water, before diving under the waves. 

\---

Patsy sailed them back at a leisurely speed as Delia sat near her at the controls, towelling off her hair. 

“Not now…but sometime…I’m going to want to drive this thing!” 

Patsy shot her a side glance. Pleased that Delia wanted ‘another time’ with her on her yacht. Knowing this was probably the best time, she took the opportunity to ask. 

“Will you come to dinner tomorrow night? There’s still so much I need to say to you Delia.” She stilled, waiting for any kind of reaction from Delia. Receiving none, she took it as a rejection. “However, I understand if you don’t want to…or if you are doing something…with someone else.” 

Those words stuck in Patsy’s throat. The thought of Delia with another woman clawed at her heart. She had no ownership, no right to feel possessive of the Welsh woman but thinking of Delia in the arms of another, enjoying the feel of another woman against her, made her stomach clench in pain. It had been hard enough with Emma. It had been devastating seeing her kiss the blonde woman so passionately and now the thought that she had been intimate with someone was almost too much to bare. She knew she had to push her jealousy down, it would not be constructive in winning Delia back.

“No…I’ve no plans…I could make it.” Delia spoke quietly, almost hesitant, as though she had heard Patsy’s thoughts. 

\---

As the boat made its way back into the harbour of Little Markham, Delia could see a familiar figure on the quayside. Hands on her hips expectant, was Mrs Busby. She let out a slow breath, fearing that the appearance of her mother was not good news. The yacht slowly came into its place of mooring with Delia’s mother staring directly at Delia on the deck. When she was close enough to reprimand, she didn’t hold back her venting. 

“Delia Anwen Busby! I have been worried sick. The whole family has. You didn’t come home last night and didn’t let us know. Anything could have happened to you. I have contacted the police and the coastguard. Even though they said you were not considered a missing person, I made them log your details and everything. Trixie has been trying to get hold of you urgently. I have been waiting here in the cold for a good number of hours I’ll have you know…”

Delia lifted her hands in apology, there was a reason she left home for London and the overbearing protectiveness was it. 

“Sorry mam,” She shouted up to her, “Didn’t Dad tell you I was helping…Pats…” Delia paused looking at the fixed determined expression on her mother’s face. Mrs Busby was looking straight over Delia’s shoulder at the red headed figure who had appeared with ropes in hand. 

An unimpressed raise of an eyebrow told Delia that her mother had heard who was in town and was obviously none too happy about it. 

“Mrs Busby, I presume?” Patsy called out, ready to climb the harbour wall and secure the boat in its mooring to a cleat. “So lovely to make your acquaintance…finally. I’m Patsy Mount. Delia has told me so many wonderful things.”

Delia almost snorted at Patsy’s sycophantic comment. She most certainly had not. As Patsy hauled herself up the wall and tied the rope off, she continued to talk at Mrs Busby, bestowing great plaudits on the town of Little Markham. She did not let the older woman get another word in until she pulled herself upright, her height advantage clearly evident from where Delia stood on the deck. Well played Patsy, Delia thought. The Consultant looked at Delia and back to her mother. 

“It sounds as though Delia needs to call Trixie now that she has signal. Would you like to come aboard for tea? I have a selection from around the world, I’m sure we can find something to your liking.” 

Delia was dumbstruck as her mother smiled weakly and followed Patsy down the harbour ladder, allowing the red head to guide her. Delia found her phone in her bag and began to dial Trixie’s number. She turned to see her mother disappearing beneath deck with Patsy. Oh, dear god. It was too late now! 

The dial tone rang and was picked up by her best friend back in London, clearly breathless with excitement. 

“Delia...finally! I’ve spoken to your mother…she has filled me in on what has happened. Oh my god Patsy is there! She told me that she has a boat and its named after you and she’s sailed to you. Is this true?!”

“Yes,” was all Delia could manage as it was drowned out by Trixie’s uncontrollable squealing and giggling. 

“If someone did that for me. I would have dropped instantly to my knees to show them my gratitude!” 

“Trixie!” Delia reprimanded her friend’s questionable eloquence.

“Delia!” She retorted, matching her tone, “This is like fairy tale stuff! The damn woman has wised up and gone to get you. She’s your knight on a flashy steed, except that it is a fricking yacht. I bet its magnificent, isn’t it? Please tell me you slept with her last night and that is why I couldn’t get hold of you.” 

“It’s complicated.” Delia replied, almost apologetically.

“It always is with you two Missy!” Trixie continued, “I’m about to make it a whole lot more complicated though. Your estate agents called…You need to give them a ring. It’s not good news, I’m afraid. Sorry sweetie.”


	10. Chapter 10

Delia opened the door to the harbourside café and smiled when she saw who she had come to meet. The dark hair of Sophie was pulled back off her face and held in place by sunglasses perched on the top of her head. She was looking intently at her phone and smiled warmly in response to Delia’s greeting. As Delia sat down and ordered from the menu she tried her best not to glance at the yacht which was in full view from the windows of the little café. 

Delia felt a wave of nerves and trepidation and started organising the condiments on the table between them for something to do with her hands. Sophie narrowed her eyes at Delia’s fluster, sensing the brunette had something important she wanted to say. 

“Thanks for meeting me.” Delia began, “I needed to talk to you about something.” Her blue eyes flashed up at Sophie’s face hesitantly. The teacher broke into an easy grin and sat back relaxed in her chair. 

She laughed slightly as she spoke, “Would this be about the fact that your ex that has quite literally sailed back into your life?” She raised an eyebrow at the fidgeting Delia. “Amy told me.” 

“Oh!” Delia replied unsure how else to respond to the woman’s alarming accuracy. 

“Don’t worry Delia!” She continued to smile and gestured out the window with her head, “I don’t think anyone in Little Markham could miss the big fuck off yacht in the harbour and the gorgeous red head who sails it! She really is the talk of the town.” She paused, “Well you both are!”

“Oh…” Delia responded again, looking down shamefaced. 

“Don’t be bashful.” Sophie continued, leaning forward and placing a hand over Delia’s to still the drumming fingers on the table. 

“It’s about time we had a little excitement in Little Markham and it doesn’t get more exciting than a gay love drama!” She squeezed Delia’s hands and then moved her own away. “The most we usually get is Amy and Davey and their latest break up. This is much more fun and has way more attractive protagonists than Davey O’Sullivan!” She laughed again, raising an eyebrow, which in turn, quirked the corners of Delia’s lips into a smile. 

Two coffees were placed down on their table and Sophie picked up her cup and took a sip. Her eyes twinkled mischievously over the rim at Delia.

“So, tell me what has been going on. Has she really named the yacht after you?” 

Delia nodded, stirring a single sugar into the dark liquid. 

“God that’s so romantic. I can’t imagine any of my exes doing anything like that for me.” Sophie mused, looking out at the Delia Anwen moored up. “I suppose it depends if it’s welcome.” She inclined her head at Delia, hoping to get the brunette to open up. 

Delia removed the spoon slowly and took a drink of her coffee. She looked at Sophie anxiously, feeling reticent to speak. Sophie understood the look and placed down her cup. She inhaled and placed a hand on Delia’s again. 

“I like you Delia. However, it’s painstakingly obvious that you are completely wrapped up in someone else…someone who is now here.” Sophie smiled at her. “That is fine…really it is!” 

Delia replied weakly, “I just thought you’d be….”

Sophie jumped in, before Delia could continue. 

“Delia, you work in London, you are buying a house there. My life is here. I love it in Little Markham and I love my job…here.” She gestured between them, “Not that this was or was going to be anything more, but definitely a long-distance relationship is not what I want.” She paused, looking up at the ceiling thoughtfully.

“In fact, I don’t even want a relationship at the moment. I thoroughly enjoy only having to think about myself. I know that sounds selfish but it’s what I need.”  
Delia allowed Sophie to stroke her hand and smiled her thanks back at her. 

“So, Delia Busby don’t be shy…tell me about your sexy ex.” 

\---

“Right, I’m going to the bathroom.” Sophie announced, standing up. “On the back of this napkin I want you to write me five things you love about her…and…I want it finished by the time I get back. So, no procrastinating, just what immediately pops into your mind.” She looked at Delia, “Trust me!” 

“Yes Miss!” Delia replied, laughing at Sophie’s command. Having just spent the last twenty minutes talking to Sophie about the rollercoaster her life had been on over the summer, she was unsure why Sophie wanted to see the list. 

She tentatively began. Then she couldn’t stop. 

As Sophie sat back down Delia handed the list over to her. She smiled like a teacher’s pet, looking for praise. Sophie surveyed Delia’s handiwork. 

“I won’t judge your handwriting!” She teased, flicking her eyes up to meet Delia’s. 

“Hey! What’s wrong with my writing? I think it’s very neat. Better than half the doctors I know!”

Sophie placed the list down smiling and looked directly at Delia. “Just as I thought!”

“What?” Delia asked curiously. Wondering what had caught the other woman’s eye. 

“Your list…there’s nothing here to do with wealth.” She smiled again at Delia, a satisfied grin. 

“Your reluctance and worries about being with Patsy are all wrapped up in her wealth but on this list none of these things are to do with it.” She looked pointedly at the smaller woman, “You love her Delia. Not her cash. You are forgetting why you want to be with her.” 

Sophie lay the napkin down and smoothed it over. 

“Top five things. Some I will debate with you…” she smirked, raising her brow. 

“One is Compassion…Yes it sounds like Patsy is a saint. A phenomenal doctor who goes above and beyond. Is she for real Delia?”

Delia just smiled and took the ribbing. She wasn’t sure she liked having her reasons read back to her but she let it go. 

“Two - her drive and energy. Technically I’d say these were two Delia but I’ll let you off. Drive and energy? I’m not sure we need to hear what she is like in bed!” Sophie joked, flashing a grin at Delia. “How does she have time to do two jobs? I can barely do one properly, let alone two!”

Delia shook her head, she was more than sure that Sophie was exceptional at the one she had chosen. 

“Three – intelligence. Seriously? Oxford? Business and medicine. Fuck off Delia…is she for real?”

Delia was now laughing and shrugging. “You asked for a list…I can’t help the attributes she has!”

“Right, if you want to go off and kiss anymore of your exes then I’m moving in on her… just so you know now…okay?!” Sophie chanced the cheeky comment and bit her lip when she saw a non-too pleased face from the other woman. 

“Okay…moving on…four - confidence….” Sophie pursed her lips, thinking. “Well I agree, there’s nothing sexier than a confident woman.”

Delia felt like she needed to interject here, “It’s the way she commands the space. She just controls the room without effort. I don’t know how aware she is of the effect she on other people. Actually, scrub that…” Delia laughed, “She knows exactly the effect she has on other people. But…there is a vulnerability there too.” She surmised, thinking out loud now. “She doesn’t show it but it’s there when she lets you in. I love that too, it’s what drives her to be all the other things.” 

“Hang on – that’s two in one. You can’t have vulnerability – I only asked for 5 and your final one is somewhat more superficial!” Sophie objected, peering at the list again. Delia shrugged and gave a smile of delight.

“Five – her body! I thought better of you Miss Busby. I’ll take your word for it. Glad to see you are human there, like the rest of us, and you just want to jump her!”

Delia smiled, flashing her deep dimples, “I was running out of deep thoughtful reasons and you were about to come back from the toilet!” 

Sophie laughed hard at the woman opposite and shook her head. “Plus, you drew little hearts around the reasons. If anything signals true love, it’s that!” 

Sophie picked up her bag and started to rummage around for her purse. She paused to give Delia a piece of advice.

“Accept that she has money, enjoy it at times…it won’t change who you are. It won’t change her. You’ve already fallen in love with her.” Sophie looked at her seriously, her eyes imploring, “Don’t let the woman you love, and who is clearly besotted with you, go just because you can’t handle her background.”

Delia listened to the other woman’s words, “You are amazing Sophie do you know that?”

The dark-haired woman smiled cheekily, “I might get you to write a reference, I can hand it out to the next attractive lesbian I meet!” 

“You need to visit me in London. You are too fun to let go!” Delia returned genuinely. 

“Deal Miss Busby!” Sophie agreed, turning the plate with the bill on to check its amount. “I’ll pay…it’s on me. You are not used to settling bills!” She joked as Delia collected her coat. She rolled her eyes at Sophie’s observation, making the older woman laugh again. 

Sophie watched Delia leave and looked down at the table. She realised her list was still there on the back of the napkin. She folded it in half and scribbled something on the front. She knew exactly who needed to read this. She thanked the owner and turned left out of the café heading down to the quayside and towards the yacht that was moored in the harbour. 

\---

The sun was setting as Delia made her way back down to the harbour. Her conversation with Sophie had helped but she was still apprehensive about what to say to Patsy. She knew she loved her. She had never stopped loving her. After her conversation with the estate agent, everything was up in the air again. Last week she had thought she had everything finally settled, yet in the space of seven days it had all flipped again. 

She reached the harbour ladder that led down to the deck of Patsy’s yacht. She concluded that the dress she had worn was not the most practical of items for scaling walls. However, she was unsure what to wear. It was a date, she couldn’t get away from the fact. She was having dinner with Patsy. She had been asked to dinner and although this was a woman she knew intimately, she still felt giddy and nervous. 

She reached the deck, turned and stopped. In front of her laid out on the deck was a note. Her name written in the familiar cursive lettering of Patsy’s hand. She furrowed her brow. Had Patsy gone out? She hadn’t texted her to say that she had. Delia slipped out the notelet from the envelope. It was simple. 

Follow the Jelly Baby trail. 

Delia looked around and sure enough, on the deck of the yacht, there were a line of Jelly Babies. Delia laughed at the sight and the memory of their conversation in the car on the way to Oxford for the weekend. As Delia followed the line she noted that the confectionary path was only made up of red and black Jelly Babies. Her favourite. Patsy did listen, thought Delia, and her chest fluttered at imagining Patsy picking out all the berry babies from a packet for her. 

The trail ended at the stern of the boat and another note was stuck to a seat. Delia sat down and opened it.

Reasons I love Delia 

One – You make me a better person. Full stop. 

Delia broke into a smile. How did Patsy know about her list? She looked up and saw the trail continue towards the sun deck. Following it round, she noticed a few of the sweets had been decapitated. Obviously, Patsy had taken a nibble setting out the trail. Laid out on a sofa was a second note. 

Two – Your laughter and fun. I don’t think I stop laughing when we are together. You are infectious and I can’t get enough of you. 

Delia exhaled at the comment. The Mount charm offensive was working and she hated that she was being drawn in so easily. 

Following further, the path went down into the cabins below. She paused outside the door to the master suite, the room where she deposited Patsy the other night. Cautiously, she opened the door and saw that the room was softly lit. On the bed, where she had laid, sat a solitary red Jelly Baby on top of the next message. She giggled at the huge heap of a citrus flavoured sweets piled up where Patsy had slept. That answered the question where the other pieces of confectionary from the packets were. Delia sat, ate the little fellow that had been guarding the notelet and removed it from the thick envelope. 

Three – Brave and adventurous. You challenge me to reveal more and commit more, than I have ever done with anyone.  
P.S make your way upstairs…please!

Delia looked at the bed and the nurse in her smoothed down its covers. Patsy may regret the stains the choice in treats would produce, if left unattended. However, perhaps she hoped that the room would get used later. The thought flickered through Delia’s mind and instigated a desire deep and low but she questioned if she could go there with Patsy. Maybe. Just not yet. 

From memory, she walked through the narrow corridor with its plush carpet and found number four.

Four – Your heart is open and filled with such warmth for those you love and care about. I was reckless to mess around with it. 

Delia swallowed, and felt a thud of guilt in her chest. Reckless. Yes, Patsy had been but so had she. Reckless with what they’d had. Reckless with Patsy’s heart and devotion. The memory from outside the pub, of Patsy’s blue eyes flooded with hurt, flashed in her mind. She inhaled for strength and climbed the stairs. 

On the door to the dining area was the final message for her. 

Reason five – You ground me and hold me to account. You don’t let me get away with acting like a shit.

Delia smiled at this. She didn’t really feel this was her. Patience Mount did as she wanted. She was focused and independent. If the accomplished woman felt that she reined in some of her shittiness, then Delia thought she must possess some super human power. Bending the will of Ms. Mount was no mean feat. 

She laughed out loud at the post script.

P.S Plus you also have a fabulous bum…just an observation! 

She pulled across the door and absorbed the sight before her. Patsy was sat at the table drinking from a ridiculously large red wine glass. She was dressed for a date. Delia took in the low neckline and how it skirted the tops of her breasts. Patsy watched Delia’s eye-line dip and enjoyed being looked at again by her. 

“Can I smell what I think it is cooking?” Delia asked stepping forward towards the table, still clutching the notes in her hand. 

“Yes…your mother gave me the recipe.” Patsy replied, standing up and allowing Delia’s eyes to take in the rest of her body in a figure hugging dress. 

“You, Patience Mount, are fucking unbelievable!” 

Patsy didn’t know to what Delia was commenting on: the recipe from Mother Busby, the dress or the notes. Whichever, she picked up a glass and poured Delia some wine. She handed it to her, without breaking eye contact. Delia took a sip, and looked at her over the rim, through her dark lashes. Patsy pulled out a chair and offered it to her.

“Dinner is served, Miss Busby!”


	11. Chapter 11

Delia sat down and took the opportunity to watch Patsy unashamedly. She sat back and drank her wine as she watched the red head busy herself around in the kitchen. She watched as she pushed her lightly curled hair behind her right ear as she tested what was cooking on the hob. She smiled as Patsy stood hand on hip, with her elegantly long fingers drumming on her waist, thinking what was needed next. Delia imagined her own hand on that waist. Circling from behind, with her head resting against her lean back. How she wanted it at that moment. She wanted to go back to what they had. 

She clenched with desire as she saw redness rise across Patsy’s chest. She only ever saw that in Patsy when she was flustered or at the point of sheer ecstasy. It made Delia contract deep and low. Patsy looked up, catching Delia’s distracted eye. She didn’t look away. A smile flitted across Patsy’s full lips. “It’s awfully hot in the kitchen area!” She laughed.

“I’d say!” Returned Delia, flashing her a dimpled smile. 

Patsy narrowed her eyes and stood tall, throwing an oven glove on the boat kitchen side board. She wiped her forehead and Delia felt as though she needed to rein in a growl at seeing a bead of sweat form between the cleft of Patsy’s breasts. Her eyes followed it, hypnotised. “Can you slide open a window?” The taller woman asked, regaining Delia’s attention from her chest. Delia smiled at her query, deciding she was quite happy with the room’s temperature as it was. “I can see why you can hire crew for this boat!” Patsy muttered, turning off the bubbling pots and pans.

“I think it’s lovely that you made me dinner Patsy.” Delia replied to her grumble, “You used to do it for me all the time.”

Patsy looked at Delia and nodded almost sadly. A flicker of regret and lost time, flashing across her features, before she snapped out of it and indicated with a hand that Delia should sit again at the table. 

\---

It was half way through the main meal that Patsy started to speak of anything of note. They had politely conversed on a range of subjects, enjoying the familiarity of the other’s company and the ease of discussion they always had with each other. "I had a visitor today.” Patsy spoke, eating slowly and pushing the food nervously around her plate. 

“Did you?” Delia returned, committing nothing. 

“Sophie…” Patsy looked up to catch whichever expression Delia’s face was going to reveal. 

“Ummm hmmm,” she responded, her face guarded. 

“She is lovely. Good choice Deels. She’s very…"

Delia stopped chewing, waiting for Patsy to end the sentence. 

“Very what?” Delia asked, as Patsy stalled. 

“Attractive.” She finished, the words sticking in her throat. 

Delia smiled at the possible thoughts running through Patsy’s head. “Did you not think she wouldn’t be?” Patsy narrowed her eyes at the brunette and took a sip of wine. She didn’t want to play games with Delia. 

“She gave me your list, so I compiled my own. I meant everything I said Delia.” Delia looked at the serious eyes. Patsy wasn’t flirting, she wasn’t teasing, she was just aiming straight for the prize. Her. “I want you back Deels.” The Mount determination was in full force. “And…until you give me good reasons why you don’t want to be with me, I will keep persisting.” Delia stared Patsy down across the table. Patsy was so self-assured and bloody confident she thought. Just as she was in her job and in business. Unbeknownst to the Welsh woman though, Patsy’s stomach was twisting in knots. It rippled in anxiety. She didn’t like putting herself out there; having her feelings dictated to by someone else. But this wasn’t just someone else, it was Delia. 

“The Jelly babies were a good start Patience.” Delia returned, considering her words. “But I’m not a commodity you can acquire…you should know that by now.”

Patsy smiled at the comment. It hung in the air between them. Sitting aboard the yacht, bearing her name, the statement resonated within Patsy. She broke into a laugh to ease the tension and deftly changed the subject. 

“Who would’ve thought seagulls would eat Jelly Babies? It took ages to lay a trail that wasn’t devoured within minutes!” 

“They eat anything Patsy, if you tempt them.” Delia smiled in return, recognising that Patsy was on edge and had deflected attention away from a difficult subject. 

“Do you know how many bags you have to buy to get enough red and black ones?” Patsy asked. 

“You can afford it!” Delia shot back lifting her wine glass and smiling over its rim. 

Patsy mirrored Delia’s action and acknowledged her retort, “Touche, Delia!”

They ate for a few minutes in silence. Each looking at the other occasionally, as though weighing each other up. Neither wanting to ruin the peace that held between them. Finally, Delia spoke, she had to know the answer and asked with incredulity. 

“So, Dr Mount, how on earth did you get my Mam to part with a sacred Busby recipe?” 

Patsy thought about her meeting yesterday with Delia’s mother and how all she did was open her heart to the woman, which seemed to do the trick. She gave Delia a lopsided smile that flipped the younger woman’s stomach and looked at her smugly, raising an eyebrow. 

“I have my ways to get what I want from the Busby women!” 

Delia didn’t protest.

\---  


Patsy’s teas of the world had done the trick with Mrs Busby the previous day. Unsure what to have, she had let Patsy chose a blend for her. She had been assured that a tea from the far east, that Patsy had tasted on her travels, would be perfect for her. She was sceptical, as nothing beat a home brew but she would reserve judgement until she sampled it. Mrs Busby eyed the tall imposing woman as she poured hot water over the leaves. She was beautiful, of that there was no mistaking. She had poise, and from what Delia had told her, intellect. Hadn’t she studied at Oxford after boarding school? The yacht itself, showed the wealth the family had and it was a far cry from the world that she and her husband inhabited.

Patsy turned and smiled at Mrs Busby, indicating that they should sit in the lounge chairs. On the surface Patsy appeared calm but underneath a current of nerves bubbled. This was Mrs Busby. The woman that Delia had used as many delaying tactics that she could think of, when they were together, so that they would never meet. What was it about this woman or her, for that matter, that troubled Delia so?

Patsy poured out a cup and offered it genially to Mrs Busby. Mrs Busby accepted and remembered that although the other woman was full of politeness and manners, this was the person that had broken Delia’s heart. She would cut to the chase. She wasn’t sure how long she had before Delia returned from her phone conversation with Trixie.

“Miss Mount. Why are you here? I love my daughter very much and it has been agony seeing her destroyed…because of you.”

Patsy gulped audibly, the heat of the tea stinging her throat. This was the reason why Delia didn’t want them to meet. Blunt forthrightness. Fortunately, Patsy fed off this approach, it was her bread and butter.

“I’m here for Delia, Mrs Busby. Plain and simple.” She locked eyes with the Welsh matriarch and challenged them to interrupt. She didn’t. 

“The greatest mistake I’ve made so far in my life is letting my pride get in the way of the one thing that has made me happy...Your daughter.”

Mrs Busby still couldn’t understand. She loved her daughter dearly but she did wonder why someone so accomplished as Patsy was chasing after her. After all Delia was just a nurse and Patsy Mount was a high-flying consultant and businesswoman. She even appeared in society magazines for goodness sake.

Patsy continued, “With Delia’s compassion and understanding, she opened my eyes on myself and made me be a better person. She is the most incredible woman I have ever met and you must be so proud to be her mother.”

Mrs Busby spluttered into her tea. She didn’t need to be told how wonderful her daughter was. Before she could compose herself to answer, Patsy barrelled on. 

“I love her and I hope that one day she will forgive my stupidity and allow me the honour of loving her wholeheartedly again.” Patsy paused, allowing Mrs Busby her say. 

Mrs Busby had never heard someone speak so passionately about love. So desperately about their intentions and it was all for her little girl. She had wanted so much for Delia when she was growing up. She wanted her to meet a kind man, who would devote himself to her. She had wanted Delia to have children and enjoy the gift of bringing life into the world. When Delia told her of her preferences she was shocked at first, the image she had of Delia and her perfect wedding day vanished. There hadn’t been anyone gay in the Busby family to her knowledge. She wasn't sure what to imagine about her potential future...with a woman. And now here she was, sitting listening to someone who wanted to give everything she had hoped of, to her daughter. The selfish part of Mrs Busby, that wanted Delia home with her in Little Markham, began warring with the realist side. She could tell Patsy to leave, to forget ever being part of Delia’s life or her family’s. She could do that, but the loving side, that wanted Delia to be happy won through. If Delia wanted this woman, who was she to stop her? It was for Delia to decide. She was head strong enough to be able to do that by herself. 

They had clashed for years. The determined young girl became more resolute as she got older and at times it felt as though she was sent to test her. Her boys were easy, they trod a similar path to her husband but Delia…Delia was always very different. She had waved her off to University knowing she would never return home. It actually didn’t surprise her, when she thought about it, that this woman with her background, achievements and money, had fallen for Delia. Because Delia was special. She was someone that this woman should fight to win back. Should prove herself to. She realised in that moment how very much she loved her daughter. 

What she said next took Patsy by surprise. The red head never expected it to have been this easy. 

“What can I do Patsy love, to help you get her back?” 

Patsy slow blinked at Delia’s mother. Shook her head, to order her thoughts and asked for what she needed. 

“I want to cook something special for Delia tomorrow? What is her favourite from home?” 

\---

The rest of the meal progressed smoothly. The bottle of wine was gone by the time the main course was finished and Patsy had already uncorked another, stating it was an exceptional vintage and perfect to accompany Welsh home cooking. Delia had laughed and said she didn’t think that would be a selling point on the label. As Patsy poured her some more, she stood at Delia’s side and chanced a hand on her shoulder. Her thumb stroked over the smooth skin and Delia allowed the heady feeling to consume her. Patsy slid her hand along the top of her back and caressed the nape of her neck. Delia exhaled at the touch. 

“I’ve missed you Delia.” She breathed, “I should never have let you walk away.” 

Delia’s eyes shot open to clarify.

“I didn’t leave you Patsy. You told me you needed time apart.”

Patsy removed her hand swiftly as Delia bristled at her comment. 

“Okay. My mistake. Sorry.” Patsy twisted the bottle, ensuring no drips, and returned to her place sitting opposite Delia at the table. This was going to take work. No question about it. The Delia of old and her would have been in bed by now. She would have been running her lips over the Welsh woman’s skin and enjoying the glorious feeling of her flush against her. Not right now though. 

“When do you go back to work?” She asked, steering conversation onto firmer ground.  


“Soon.” Delia replied, still smarting from the earlier comment.  


“And your house…how’s that going?” Patsy looked at her, her blue eyes asking.  


Delia rose from the table and took her glass over to the comfortable lounge chairs by the windows.“Well that’s not going anywhere now” she stated disconsolately. Patsy furrowed her brow into a query and Delia continued.

“It fell through…they decided not to sell after all. All very strange because they were going to downsize and use the remainder of the money as their retirement fund. They had plans to travel and see the sights of the world.”

“Oh…” Patsy offered Delia.

“I didn’t really get an answer, only that they weren’t selling anymore. I had such plans for it. It was rare for a place to come up in my price range and it would have been perfect.” Patsy watched Delia’s face fall into melancholy and felt a stab of guilt. “It leaves me up shit creek actually. Trixie’s new flat mate has moved in and she can’t turf her out now that she has signed a contract with the landlord.”

“What are you going to do?” The red head asked.

“I don’t know to be honest Pats!” Delia’s blue eyes looked up at Patsy and her heart constricted at the look of hopelessness in them and at the shortening of her name. Patsy held the gaze and stuttered out hesitantly.

“You…could stay…at…mine. Just whilst you get yourself sorted. If you want?” She tried to make it a sweeter deal, “God Delia, you know I have enough space!”

Delia was taken back by the proposal, “You don’t do lodgers Pats! I remember you clearly telling me that once.” Patsy rose an eyebrow to the comment.

“You’re a lodger I’d like to do!” Patsy cheekily threw back and regretted it immediately.

Delia rolled her eyes.

“Thanks for the offer but I don’t think it’ll work, would it?” She looked Patsy dead centre.

“Why not?” Patsy retorted earnestly, “It’s so big, if you didn’t ever want to see me, it would be quite easy to avoid me…Plus, with work and the business, I’m hardly ever there. Also, a host of engagements keeps me out most nights.” The look of disgust in Delia’s eyes told her that she assumed she was out with string of women every evening. “Work engagements Delia!” Patsy confirmed with clarity and a pointed look.

Delia paused and looked out the windows. The blackness of the sky meant that her face reflected back at her from the pane. She looked tired, she thought. Lodging with Patsy would probably be a stupid thing to do but currently she had nowhere to live, once back in London. She didn’t feel like she had the energy to trawl round dingy little places to find a single room in a shared house. She felt too old for that. She was so close to having her own home. She didn’t want to live like a student any more.

She turned to face the older woman. “If I did, we need to have rules. Plus, I would pay you, understand?”

The red head broke into an excited grin and nodded her head.

“Plus, it’s short term…like, really short term…whilst I find a place to rent, in order to buy again.”

“Sure, that’s fine. I’m just glad I can help.” Patsy spoke, with uncontained glee. She went over to the wine bottle and poured herself some more and topped up Delia’s glass.

“Let’s have a toast…to housemates!” Patsy enthusiastically clinked glasses with a slightly more hesitant Delia. Patsy exuberance finally made Delia smile and she laughed out loud at the situation.

“I didn’t expect to be having a Chelsea postcode!” She chuckled.

“Oh, you’ll love it…trust me Deels!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to NotaDogWarden for the distractions this week and Superbanana for the postponement so I could post the chapter! ;-)


	12. Chapter 12

‘I seriously will not fit in that!’ whined Patsy for the umpteenth time.

‘Of course you will, I know you have long legs but it is a car made for humans!’

‘Hobbits more like.’ Patsy retorted, tugging open the door of the smart scarlet red Fiat 500 hire car with apprehension. ‘How did you fit your luggage in it?’ She asked with disbelief, peering inside. 

‘I’m only here for a short time and I’m on my own, I pack light...You obviously need a whole yacht to transport your crap around!’ Delia laughed, looking at Patsy with a smirk. The red head pouted at the comment and started to fold her legs into the passenger seat. Once in, Delia turned on the ignition. ‘There you go Pats…said you’d fit!’ She giggled, fastening her seatbelt. ‘You are too pampered Ms Mount!’

‘I am not Deels!’ Patsy protested, ‘I just like certain cars,’ she smiled softly. ‘Anyway, this perfectly suits you…you should get one!’ 

‘I don’t need a car in London Patsy, I use public transport.’

Patsy baulked at Delia's reply, ‘A car is a must!’ 

Delia laughed at the other woman’s mock aversion to travelling like a commoner. ‘One day someone will actually believe that you mean that!’ She giggled as she pulled out from the harbour-side where she had picked Patsy up from, and headed up onto the country lanes. Delia had decided the day before it was time to invite Patsy out to see her home county and Patsy had agreed, eager to see the landscape that had shaped a certain Miss Busby. 

\---

The trip down memory lane was the result of an unusual event that had occurred the previous day. She and Amy had wandered down for an early evening drink at the local and had noticed that Patsy’s harbour dominating yacht was not moored in its usual spot. A wave of cold washed over Delia. Had she departed without saying anything? Was it her father or aunt? 

‘Has she left?’ Amy asked curiously.

Delia furrowed her brow, ‘Not that I’m aware of.' She retorted before adding, 'However, she is free to come and go as she pleases!’ 

Amy nodded slowly, not at all taken in by Delia’s attempt at being breezy. She had heard all about the dinner date with Patsy the other evening and about Patsy’s determined intentions. She had smiled sceptically when Delia said she was moving in with Patsy ‘platonically.’ She watched the concern worry the face of her friend and hoped that the English woman hadn't done a runner. 

‘Let’s get that drink Amy,’ Delia suggested, hurrying them both through the doors, trying to push thoughts of Patsy from her mind. Had she left without saying goodbye? Surely not.

 

An hour or so later, as the two women were sitting outside the pub enjoying the last of the evening sun, Amy spied the familiar yacht over Delia’s shoulder, on its return from its sea voyage.

‘Your girlfriend is back!’ She indicated, pointing her glass in the direction of the approaching vessel.

Delia spun round at her words and held up her hand to shield her eyes. She could make out a number of figures on deck. She turned back to face Amy and narrowed her eyes in question. They both swivelled so they could see the boat fully and watched as it came up along-side the harbour wall. Delia's mouth dropped open in surprise when she saw quite clearly who had accompanied Patsy on her sea trip. Standing victorious, holding aloft something weighty and slippery was Huw Busby. He was joined by his brother as her father started to ascend the ladder to secure the boat with ropes. 

‘I don’t fucking believe it!’ Delia breathed, looking agog at Amy.

The Busby boys were all busying themselves with fishing tackle as Patsy made her way down from the fly deck. They stood together conversing as they packed away the equipment and when Gethen spotted the two women outside the pub, his hand shot up in a wave. Patsy immediately turned to see who he was waving at and broke out in a full beam. Amy waved back enthusiastically as Delia half raised her hand in hesitant acknowledgement. 

‘Well I’m going over!’ Amy said, hurrying to get up and find out the latest gossip. Delia sighed and slowly wandered after her to the edge of the quay. When she arrived, Amy was already discussing the catch with Huw, with Gethen chatting about how spectacular the yacht was. Patsy stood watching the family conversation and smiled as Delia approached. 

‘Hello, cariad,’ Mr Busby said gleefully at his daughter, ‘Patsy has been kind enough to take us out fishing.’ 

‘So I can see.’ Delia replied.

‘We got chatting when she first arrived and she promised she would…Well we were all off today so we took her up on her offer.’ Mr Busby looked at the red head, ‘It’s been marvellous, thanks Patsy.’

‘My pleasure, what’s the point having a boat if you don’t get to use it!’ She replied generously.

‘Indeed!’ Delia’s dad agreed, ‘Are you sure you don’t want me to prepare some of the fish and return it to you?’ 

‘No thanks. Keep them all, that’s fine with me. I think I’m done with cooking on this thing!’ She glanced at Delia and smiled remembering their meal together. 

‘Right, we best be off.’ Huw instructed his family, ‘Leave Patsy and Delia in peace.’ He looked at his sister and raised a suggestive eyebrow. Delia did not react and looked down at her toes. The Busby boys made their way off the yacht, shouting their thanks to their host. 

As Gethen sauntered past Delia, he leant in and whispered with a grin, ‘Seriously sis, if you don’t marry that woman, then I will. She’s bloody amazing!’ Delia folded her arms across her chest and faced Patsy sternly. Amy joined the men in walking back to the pub, leaving Patsy and Delia alone. 

‘Fishing Pats?’ Delia said surprised, ‘Since when did you fish?’

Patsy laughed, enjoying seeing Delia a little disgruntled. ‘An agreement is an agreement! I always follow through on something I’ve promised!’ She smiled widely at the Welsh woman. ‘I enjoyed myself…your family are great company!’

Delia rolled her eyes at the thought of her family spending time alone with Patsy. God knows what they had said. She needed to rectify any damage done. She decided there and then that SHE would be spending some time alone with Patsy. 

‘What are you doing tomorrow Patsy?’ She asked, hoping she would be free.

 

\---

Delia had shown Patsy where she played with her brothers as children. They had walked the overgrown footpaths and climbed wooden stiles until they found the special Busby den that they had once made. It was quite ramshackle now but you could still make out the Busby children’s initials scratched into the wood. Patsy smiled as she traced Delia's childhood handwriting, imagining a small version of Delia scampering around with her brothers. 

After, she had driven them to her secondary school and made her find a particular tree that Amy and she would sneak off to so Amy could smoke. It was here that she had tried smoking and instantly decided it wasn't for her. There were cigarette butts littered on the ground, indicating that the place still had its regular dwellers bunking off the occasional lesson. On the drive Delia had insisted on playing music to Patsy from 'her' time era, just to set the scene that little bit more for her. Patsy had mercilessly mocked teenage Delia’s taste in music. This, in turn, had only encouraged Delia to turn it up louder and accompany the singing with what she felt was fabulous driver dancing. 

Delia had a final place she wanted to take Patsy. Her special place where she went when she had needed to think. It had been here that she had come to the realisation and acceptance that she was gay. Here, she decided not to let it worry her and just see what life held in store. It was in this place that she made the decision that she was going to go and live in London. It held many memories, not all good but she felt it was somewhere Patsy should see. They both sat down on the headland on a tuft on dry grass, weathered by the abrasive sea breeze. Salt could be tasted on the wind and Patsy drew her coat closer around her against the biting wind. It had been lovely to see where Delia had grown up. She had taken her to Wellsleigh to see her childhood home and now it felt as though the remaining piece of the Busby jigsaw was in place. 

Delia sighed looking at the landscape. Patsy was here, finally. She had imagined taking her for walks here, maybe rolling among the heather. That wasn’t the reality but it was still a good one nonetheless. She knew there were things that hadn’t been spoken of yet, now was as good a time as any. And why not here? In the place that so many parts of her life had been clarified. They needed to re-establish the life they had shared before events had unfurled. They needed to, if they were to have a future together. 

‘How’s your father?’ Delia asked hesitantly. 

Being frozen out of Patsy’s life had meant that she had no idea about the state of health of Charles Mount. She had quickly grown fond of both Patsy’s father and aunt and had wondered on many occasion about his declining wellbeing. 

‘He is…the same…’ Patsy replied quickly, eager to move subject matter on. She brushed over her legs as she spoke, looking for a speck of dirt to remove from her trousers. There were none. Delia watched the action and immediately knew Patsy was in defensive mode, especially when she didn’t venture any further details.

Delia paused, ‘And your nephew?’ She asked after him cautiously. Patsy paused in her wardrobe inspection and turned to face Delia. The Welsh woman smiled at Patsy, trying to encourage communication. 

‘He’s better thank you, he still needs to go in for routine check-ups to see how he is progressing…but he is through the worst of it…thankfully.’ 

‘Must have been hard on Chloe…’ Delia spoke softly, then continued a little quieter, ‘And on Rosie… and yourself.’ 

‘Mmm hmm, it was.’ Delia could feel the tension rippling from her, discussing the people in her life that she was connected too. 

‘I don’t mean to pry Pats…but I am genuinely concerned for them all.’ Delia reasoned.

Patsy exhaled, understanding that she was coming across unnecessarily aloof, ‘Sorry Delia. I know you are. It just feels strange to discuss them again with you. I tried to keep you separate from some of it.’ 

‘That’s silly Pats. They are all part of your life and if you want me in your life, then I am going to see them again one day. Won’t I?’ 

‘Do you want to know about Emma?’ Patsy deflected quickly.

Delia gulped, ‘No, not really.’ Now was time for Delia to dodge and be non-commital. She hadn't thought much about the blonde woman and had tried to put 'the incident' behind her. Patsy obviously hadn't. 

Patsy continued regardless, ‘She has had a sideways promotion. I’m not ashamed to admit that I contacted a friend at another hospital and I recommend that she should be head hunted.’ Delia swallowed at Patsy’s admission. ‘I’m sorry Deels, but I couldn’t work with her. I needed to transfer her.’

‘You don’t need to apologise Patsy. I totally understand.’ 

‘She was very pleased with herself when she left…or so I was told. I didn’t wish her well. I doubt that surprised her.’ Patsy sneered slightly, inspecting her nails. 

Delia inhaled deeply, filling her lungs. ‘I’m so very, very sorry Patsy about what happened. I really am. I had a melt-down about us and our potential future together. I got really scared.’

‘I wish you had just talked to me about it Delia. Told me about your concerns and fears.’ Patsy ventured. ‘Am I THAT difficult to talk to?’ 

Delia rose her eyebrow at Patsy. Challenging her statement. 

‘Like you did when you jumped into bed with those other women? You could have talked to me too, before doing that!’ 

Patsy looked down, her face burning and picked at a blade of grass. They’d both made mistakes. Ridiculous ones that never should have happened. 

‘I am desperately sorry too. I wish I could change things. I really do.’ Patsy pulled the blade of grass free and threw it into the wind. ‘You deserve better than me Delia.’  
Delia watched the blade catch the wind and be whisked away over the cliff. 

‘I don’t Pats.’ Delia replied honestly, rubbing her hands together for warmth, ‘Yes you’ve acted badly…but you are not a completely bad person. You’re just you.’ She faced the red head. ‘You slept around when you were younger and you slept around again. It’s not a complete change of character.’ She couldn’t get Patsy to look at her but continued anyway. ‘I don’t like that it happened but it did. I’m not a better person than you or vice versa Patsy. We need to get that clear between us.’

‘What’s happening here Deels?’ Patsy asked, this time looking at the Welsh woman. ‘I mean between you and I…just so I am clear.’

Delia looked at the sea and the seagulls sweeping on the breeze. She pushed her hair behind her ears and bit her lip. Eventually she turned her head to face Patsy. The older woman’s face was filled with worry, the blue eyes held a tinge of fear. 

‘Pats…’ Delia stalled, her voice cracked at saying the red head’s name. 

Patsy closed her eyes in defeat, pulled her legs up and hugged her knees. Delia lay a hand on her arm and squeezed. Patsy shook her head. 

‘Don’t Delia…it’s fine. I just needed to know.’ 

‘Patsy?’ Delia beseeched. 

‘Is it because of Sophie? Did I fuck things up so much between you and I, that you have someone else now?’

Delia exhaled and shuffled closer to the older woman. Their arms were touching and she leant her head against her shoulder. Slowly, she spoke. 

‘There isn’t anything between myself and Sophie. Delia paused, ‘There could never be anything with anyone else…because…I’m still in love with you.’ Delia felt the air escape from Patsy’s chest. 

‘You are?’ She croaked. 

‘Yes…I have been Patience for a long time and I will be for a long time too. But, that doesn’t mean that I want to rush into anything again with you. You make me feel everything so intensely. I can’t take rejection again. My heart wouldn’t take it twice. I need to be stronger to be with you.’

Patsy tilted her face and kissed the crown of Delia’s head. 

‘When you come to Chelsea everything will be on your terms understand? I won’t rush you. You say what you want and need…okay?’ 

‘Okay Patsy.’

They both sat there leant against each other, feeling each other’s warmth. Neither wanted to leave, to break the moment where everything was still, where everything was in the place it should be. 

\---

‘I didn’t expect so many.’ Patsy said looking out the window of the yacht. 

‘Not much happens in Little Markham Pats. You’ve been quite a revelation!’

‘I need to return this to you Delia. It is yours after all.’ Patsy produced the familiar little case that Delia knew contained her compass. ‘I kept it with me since the moment you left it. I should have used it earlier.’ She looked at the item in her hands and felt regret. She handed it over to the Welsh woman with a sad smile. Delia took hold of it and wrapped both hands around the ornate box tightly. She nodded her head in response to Patsy. 

‘Oh, and I have this.’ From a pocket Patsy produced an envelope and shyly passed it to Delia. ‘You might want to read this when you are alone.’ Delia narrowed her eyes suspiciously before slipping it into her coat pocket out of sight. Patsy smiled knowingly, ‘I’m looking forward to saying number one…You’ll understand when you read it.’

Delia nodded, suddenly emotional at the parting. This was not how she expected her homecoming to Little Markham to have played out. She reached out and instinctively Patsy did the same. Their hands clasped in mid-air. Delia squeezed Patsy’s hand as the older woman rubbed her thumb over her knuckles. They smiled in silent understanding at each other; a new connection being forged between the two of them.

Delia dropped Patsy’s hand and turned for the door. She paused but didn’t look behind her. ‘See you in Chelsea Pats.’ She said on exiting and hastily made for the harbour wall ladder. 

Standing on the quayside with some of the locals that had come out nosily to wave Patsy off, Delia watched as Patsy manoeuvred the yacht safely through the buoys. Amy slipped a hand around her waist. 

‘Well she certainly knew how to make an entrance back into your life, didn’t she?' Amy giggled. 

‘Sure did,’ Delia agreed, pulling out the letter from her pocket. 

‘I’ll get the round in…see you in there in a bit. Okay?’ Her friend asked, before making her way to the pub. Delia nodded her answer and turned her eyes back out to the water. She watched as the boat became a speck in the blue and she slid her finger under the envelope flap to retrieve the note. She unfolded the page and her chest constricted at the heading.

'Things I’d like to do with and to Delia Anwen Busby.'

Delia smiled at number one and her eyes widened at number eleven onwards. This was a list that needed to be read alone and in private. She refolded it and walked to the pub to meet her friend. She’d save the letter for later.


	13. Chapter 13

Delia stood on the doorstep, tapping her foot nervously. Since Patsy had invited her to stay in Chelsea, she had run through every reason why it was a good and bad idea. She had concluded it was what is was...for now. Right this minute though, she had an unsettled feeling in her stomach and she wasn’t sure if it was nerves or excitement. 

The door swung open and she was greeted by Patsy, beaming wide. Delia could hardly recall a time she had seen the consultant look so giddy. Stood with bags in hand, and hanging off her shoulders, she smiled at the red head. Patsy looked her up and down and continued smiling insanely. It wasn’t until Delia gave a little shrug to indicate she needed a welcome, did Patsy shake herself from her enthusiastic bubble and form words. 

‘Oh Sorry’ she began, reaching forward to take some of the bags and flourishing her hand to invite the brunette across the threshold. Delia smiled her thanks and made her way in, bumping against the doorframe inelegantly with her load. 

‘Welcome home!’ Patsy whispered into Delia’s ear as she made her way into the reception area. Delia turned quickly to face the older woman, eyebrows raised. ‘That’s number one!” She continued.

‘Indeed Pats,’ She replied. ‘At some point, we need to discuss that rather graphic list you created for me but not now!’ 

Patsy smirked as she made her way to the foot of the stairs and began climbing, ‘Just putting it out there, making my intentions known.’

‘They are now very much known…and intimately detailed.’ Delia laughed, following Patsy up the staircase towards the spare room. She tried not to watch Patsy’s form as she climbed the stairs but the angle of ascent offered her an opportune view and she tried to push all the salacious thoughts of the list from her mind. This was not why she was here. Definitely not. 

Patsy pushed open the doors to the spare room and deposited Delia’s belongings at the foot of the bed. She looked over the room and stalled, recalling the intimate encounter in this room with another woman. She looked at the bed covers and swallowed hard. Although washed long ago, she felt as though she had cheapened the space that Delia was now going to reside in. There was nothing she could do to repeal the act but she could find ways to ensure that Delia only saw the best of her from now on. 

‘Here you are Delia,’ she introduced hesitantly, ‘All yours…I will leave you to unpack.’ Delia smiled again, relieving her shoulders of the weighty bags. She glanced around at the immaculately furnished room and nodded her head. 

‘It’ll do…’ she joked, her eyes twinkling at Patsy, as she returned her gaze to meet the red head. 

‘I’m glad.' Patsy returned with a lopsided smile, locking onto the clear blue eyes and holding the moment between them. 

\---

 

Gradually, once Delia had returned to work, they settled into a routine. These were usually separate, at the behest of Delia. To begin with, Patsy was the dutiful host; offering to cook and give lifts. However, Delia made it very clear on the second evening, that the arrangement wouldn’t work if it continued in this vain. Although it pained Patsy a little, she understood that she couldn’t crowd Delia and that she was here as a house mate not as her lover. 

Delia insisted that she make her own way to work, time and again refusing a lift in the Aston if their shifts coincided. Often, they wouldn’t see each other due to work and after-hours commitments. Trixie found the whole domestic arrangement hilarious and teased Delia mercilessly that the whole set up was the longest session of foreplay ever seen. Delia rolled her eyes at her friend’s mocking and insisted it was temporary. 

Delia spent her free evenings looking on Rightmove, whilst Patsy lurked around in the background making comments on the properties that kept popping up. Most were appalling and Patsy made no secret in voicing her dislike for them. Although the disparaging notes irked Delia, she still took great delight in specifically showing Patsy the crummiest ones she could find, just to hear her reactions. Patsy’s initial disgust was always followed by her trying to find a redeemable feature, in case she had offended the Welsh woman. Delia’s favourite comments had included…’Splendid retro cornice choice’, ‘Such a delightfully vivid colour scheme’ and ‘What a unique and unparalleled bathroom suite there!’ Patsy had offered her a lift, should she want to look at any properties, but to Patsy’s delight, Delia hadn’t viewed any homes yet. 

Delia had begun to enjoy observing Patsy in her domain. It had become her new favourite hobby, when she was certain the Consultant wasn’t looking. With the focus, not being on them as a couple, Patsy moved around her home quietly and had strict routines established. As soon as she woke she made coffee, Delia could smell the roasted beans from her room and knew instantly that she was up and about. This was usually shortly followed by thirty minutes of hard running on the treadmill upstairs in her home gym. Delia could virtually set her watch by her activities. 

At the end of the day, Delia noted that Patsy always unwound from work in the same manner. She watched from the kitchen doorway as Patsy would pour herself a glass of whiskey and lean against the French doors leading onto her patio. She would either open them if the weather was fine, or watch the rain pour down, if it was inclement. Delia suspected that this would have additionally been a time when Patsy would have smoked, but since Delia had moved in, Patsy has resolved to quit…for good. Delia watched as she sometimes twitched her fingers nervously against the glass and wondered how long her steadfastness would last. 

Each night she fastidiously checked the locks and set the alarm, often checking them for a second time just to be sure. The Welsh woman wondered what items in the Chelsea home were of the most monetary value but unbeknownst to the brunette, Patsy did this due to an overwhelming desire to keep Delia safe. She had lost her once, she wouldn’t do it again.

If Delia glanced into the lounge during the evening, on her way to bed, she would often she Patsy pouring over patient notes or reading up on some new development. Delia wondered if she every truly stopped and gave her mind a rest. Perhaps she wasn’t wired like that she pondered; her mind so active and busy each day that she couldn’t switch off. The more Delia thought about it, the more she worried that Patsy struggled with just resting and being content in life. 

Delia’s favourite observation of Patsy was her in her home office. She would often engineer a reason of ‘visiting’ her there, just to see the dedicated and earnest business women in full force. Usually hair messily clipped up, she would pour over contracts, business propositions and legal documents, biting on the end of her Montblanc pen. When Delia asked her if she wanted refreshment, she would peer up at her through the rims of her reading glasses and smile warmly at the intermission. She would sit back in her chair, resting on the arms, considering her choice. Delia looked unashamedly at the glorious sight that was Patience Mount in these moments, and felt privileged that she was in her presence. The old feelings were still there pulling at her core daily. In these private times, she wanted nothing more than to move over to her desk, spin her around in her chair and sit astride her. She knew she could do it, if she truly wanted to; she knew full well it would be reciprocated. But her emotions raged war, tugging at her constantly…she wasn’t ready to succumb…just yet. 

\---

On a bright Saturday morning, Delia sat at the breakfast bar munching through a bowl of Weetabix as Rachel and Patsy were spread out on the floor contorted in a strong Pilates hold. She smiled, enjoying the sight before her, entranced by the ripple and flex of both women’s abdominals. She giggled as Patsy less than elegantly groaned at the end of the manoeuvre. 

‘You can join us, if you’d like Deels?!’ She laughed, lying on her back, eyes peering up behind her at the diminutive Welsh woman. 

‘I’m fine, Pats,’ Delia said through a mouthful of cereal, ‘I’m not in training for anything!’

‘You don’t need to be in training Delia!’ Rachel interjected, pulling herself into a cross legged stance. ‘It’s good for your fitness and general well-being!’ Patsy grinned at this and nodded sanctimoniously towards Delia at the statement. 

‘My well-being has considerably improved sat here just watching you two work-out thanks!’ Delia teased, taking a sip of tea and tilting her head at their next move. From upside down, Delia could see Patsy raise an eyebrow. 

‘Anyway, Pats I need to go shopping today. I need to buy something for your fancy birthday do!’

Patsy snickered, ‘It won’t be fancy Deels…just drinks with people I actually like for a change!’ 

Delia twisted on her stool, ‘Are you coming Rachel?’ She asked hopefully. 

‘No, I’m not.’ Replied the blonde instructor, looking at Patsy and laughing.

Delia was aghast, ‘Pats? Haven’t you invited Rachel? She will be the only person I want to talk to there!’

Rachel giggled at the reprimand, ‘Actually Delia, I am away but the invitation was made, so I must be one of the lucky few that Patsy has let into her inner sanctum!’ Delia could see Patsy blush at the comment and return to her pose shyly. She smiled at the colour the lithe blonde had made Patsy turn. The usual cool that Patsy exuded was gone, and a blushing schoolgirl appeared. Delia enjoyed watching the change. 

She finished her breakfast and announced breezily, ‘Right, ladies I can’t sit around here being distracted by you two all day…I’m off! I have a blonde best friend to meet up with…and she insists we start in Harvey Nicks!’

Patsy looked up, grinned and shouted after the retreating form of Delia through the door, ‘Send them both my regards Deels, won’t you? Miss them both terribly!’


	14. Chapter 14

Delia and Trixie carefully made their way down the steep stairs into the basement bar. The blonde balancing on her new sky-high heels, purchased on their recent shopping trip. Inconspicuous from the outside, the Mayfair address opened-up into a sequence of rooms and the pair snaked their way through the jubilant monied crowd. The cellar walls were lined with wooden casks and champagne crates. The bottles stacked inside were ready to be plucked and savoured. The dipped lighting hit the deep red of the wine; refracting its colour and creating a sensual glow. Trixie instinctively made her way to the bar leaving Delia to rake over the party goers, seeking out only one - the birthday girl herself.

As Delia’s eyes adjusted to the room and its inhabitants, a firm shoulder unapologetically brushed past her. Delia spun around and was face to face with a woman she hadn’t seen for a while. Rosie Gallagher. Taking in the hard but striking features, her stomach dropped.

‘Delia?!’ She slurred acerbically. Delia winced at the tone and took a small step backwards, wanting distance from the viper who, in the past, had made it clear how she felt about the Welsh woman. 

‘Rosie,’ she returned cordially, committing nothing. The brunette could see the older woman inhale slowly, alcohol had slowed down her reactions and her usual bite was not as instant. This gave Delia enough time to lever in her own swipe before the senior medic could. 

‘Leaving so soon? The party is surely only getting started?’ Delia stated, tilting her head coolly, but keeping her features neutral. The dark eyes of Rosie narrowed, assessing the situation and obviously deciding not to go further. 

‘I have a private clinic tomorrow…we can’t all stay out drinking all night.’ She returned frostily. Never one to pass up an opportunity to sleight Delia, Rosie continued. ‘I’m surprised to see you here Delia, considering the number of woman Patsy slept with during your hiatus.’ She looked around the space and smiled to herself, before returning her eyes to meet the smaller brunette, ‘Some of which are here tonight, I do believe.’ She waited patiently to see if she could get a rise from Delia. When she realised it wasn’t forthcoming from the steadfast Welsh woman, she cut her losses. ‘As you two are no more…it won’t bother you to know which of these more suitable women Patsy was enjoying only recently.’

Delia felt a flush of anger and jealousy but kept it controlled. She thanked her earlier sensible side, that decided drinking before going out would only lead to trouble. She smiled sweetly at Rosie, nodded and turned away into the crowd heading to the bar and Trixie. On reaching her best friend, she took the glass from her outstretched hand and drank it deeply. Trixie raised an eyebrow of concern and Delia batted it away by shaking her head in reply. It instantly shut down any questions.

‘Well I know you are working tomorrow Delia…but this place is amazing, we simply must enjoy ourselves.’ Trixie surmised, casting a glance over the crowd. ‘There are many suitable men here that I feel I must meet…just to be sociable, of course!” Her blue eyes shone in delight and anticipation. 

Delia laughed in reply, ‘Absolutely Trix…just to be social!’ 

 

‘Delia, darling!’ A familiar voice rose from a throng of people. Delia looked up at the sound of her name and saw to her delight Dorothy, Patsy’s aunt, coming towards her.  
‘Dorothy!’ She beamed in response, taking the older woman’s hand in hers and leaning in to kiss her cheek. 

‘I am so glad to see you here, Patsy told me that you were her new lodger!’ A sly smile crossed the older woman’s lips and passed quickly with a slight wink. Delia felt her cheeks flush, she looked away and cleared her throat. 

‘Yes…well…it’s short term, until I find somewhere.’ Delia stated adamantly. 

‘Mmmmm…sure….’ Dorothy replied, taking a glass presented to her from an unknown hand. ‘Who is this Delia?’ She asked, eyes twinkling at Trixie, fully appraising the blonde with shrewd eyes. 

‘Trixie…Trixie Franklin.’ Trixie’s manicured hand shot out confidently. ‘Delia’s best friend…you are fabulous and have the unmistakable Mount jaw line…you must be Patsy’s Aunt Dorothy!’ She arced an eyebrow and gave a cheeky smile at her summary. 

Dorothy nodded impressed, ‘I am…you know your Mounts well, Trixie Franklin!’ Trixie giggled and shrugged girlishly at the older woman. ‘Can I get you a drink Trixie?’ Dorothy asked seeing that Trixie was now empty handed. 

‘That would be wonderful Ms Mount, however there is a handsome banker I just met at the bar, who will be surprising me with something tall and strong!’ 

Dorothy laughed in response to Trixie’s flirtatious comments. ‘That’s exactly how I liked my men 30 years ago!’ 

‘Oh, come now...I am sure there are a few men trailing in your wake now!’ Trixie teased, raising a further laugh from the older woman. Right on cue a well-dressed elderly man, passed by and stopped next to Dorothy. She greeted him with gusto and turned with a wink. 

‘Well…it looks as though I must go girls. Wonderful to see you again Delia, we MUST catch up over lunch!’ Delia nodded as she turned to Trixie, ‘Ms Franklin, a pleasure…do join us for lunch too. You’re somebody that I think I will get on with splendidly!” She smiled and linked arms with the gentleman and made off through the crowd. The two friends watched her leave. 

‘That’s who I want to be when I grow up Deels!’ Trixie laughed, watching the retreating figure of Dorothy. 

‘You are her already, Trix!’ Delia laughed at her best friend, ‘And that’s exactly what you are going to be like in 40 years-time!’

Trixie looked wistful at Delia’s vision of her future, ‘I do hope so…’ she replied hopefully. Trixie was snapped from her reverie by a sudden thought. ‘Where is the younger Mount then Delia? I haven’t seen her yet. I bet she looks fabulous. It is her party after all!’ 

‘I don’t know, I haven’t seen her yet either,’ Delia replied, looking around the space, ‘I expect she will scrub up…adequately!’ Trixie snorted at the brunette’s description.

Delia eventually saw Patsy across the room stood in the corner, deep in conversation and laughter with three friends. As expected, she looked stunning and relaxed. Delia smiled to herself. “A room full of people she wanted to spend time with,” were Patsy’s words. Delia wondered, as she watched the ease of her features, how many people she had to tolerate on a daily basis? People that she communicated with, but would never get to know the real Patience Mount. 

As if acting on instinct, Patsy looked up and her eyes met with Delia’s. Delia felt her face flush as Patsy casually smiled over at her. She continued her conversation but her eyes were clearly trained on the Welsh woman across the room. Delia was rooted to the spot, transfixed by Patsy obvious interest. Delia felt the urge, the desire to bridge the space to broker the gap between them. Maybe it was time to reach out. 

Then a tall long-haired blonde appeared at Patsy’s side, circled her arms around her waist and kissed her cheek. Whatever had held the gaze between them snapped, Delia cast her eyes to the ground and swallowed hard. The words of Rosie Gallagher spun in her mind. Was this one of the women Patsy has slept with? Possibly. Probably. 

Delia didn’t look up but merely made her way to where Trixie now stood with an attractive man. She glanced back and saw that Patsy had extracted the arms from around her waist and was conversing with a new group of people. There would always be women in Patsy’s life. Patsy had a past. A ridiculous past and an unquenchable desire. Delia had to decide if she could handle this and want to pursue a life with the red head. 

All important life decisions could only be made in one place, the bathroom. Delia headed for the oak door up a short flight of steps and on entering went to steady herself at the sink. She splashed a little cold water on her face. Not enough to smudge her makeup but enough to waken her senses dulled by the small amount of alcohol she had consumed. As she straightened up she heard... ‘Hi,’ whispered in her ear. Delia momentarily closed her eyes at the greeting and felt giddy delight from the intimacy. She felt warm fingertips on her bare elbows and then the heat of Patsy’s body against her back. Both stilled for a fraction, neither wanting to spoil the moment. Delia looked up and into the mirror above the sink and saw Patsy’s reflection smiling back at her. Her core pulled tight. Would Patsy ever stop having this effect on her?

‘Happy Birthday’ Delia breathed unsteadily, quirking the red head’s lips into a smile. 

‘Nice choice…Harvey Nicks?’ Patsy asked, appraising Delia’s wardrobe choice. 

The brunette’s cheeks reddened at the compliment and nodded her answer shyly. Not wanting to look affected, she turned around suddenly and realised too late that she was pressed up against the Consultant. It definitely didn’t feel platonic. She looked up at the taller woman and could see that she had inhaled sharply at their proximity. Unsure what Patsy might do next, Delia made a snap decision. With haste, she gripped the older woman’s forearms and pushed her backwards. Patsy was a little taken by surprise and stumbled, brow furrowed. Delia could see the confusion on her face and cursed her actions. She went to say something to explain but Patsy shook her head slightly and made for the bathroom door. 

She was gone. 

Delia spun round, stared at herself hard and let out a growl of frustration.

The rest of the evening Delia brooded, chastising herself for the missed opportunity. She knew she wanted Patsy. Patsy wanted her but had been recently keeping her distance respectfully. Why was she being so damn reticent she asked herself? She looked at her watch. Unfortunately, it was time for to leave; she had a shift in the morning. She didn’t feel she could go without saying something to Patsy. To salvage how they parted. 

\---

‘I thought you’d given up?’ Delia spoke softly, leaning against the door frame to a smaller side room, having found Patsy sitting alone in a high-backed leather chair. Her legs were crossed at the knee and as Patsy reclined further, she leant her head back and inhaled the smoke from a substantial cigar between her fingers. 

‘I have…’ She replied softly, fixing her gaze on Delia, ‘But it’s my birthday…so THIS is different.’ 

Delia quirked her lips at the red head and cautiously made her way into the dark wood panelled smoking room. Patsy was relaxing comfortably; a glass of amber whiskey sat next to her on an antique table. The room was filled with comfortable chairs and an open door led out to a covered area. The sounds of London could be heard filtering down into the space from above. 

‘I thought there are laws about smoking indoors, in places like this?’ Delia teased. 

Patsy smiled knowingly at Delia and lazily rolled the cigar between thumb and forefinger. ‘There are…but not when you own the place, Deels.’

Delia stopped her slow walk into the room and tilted her head at the Consultant. Yet another part of the older woman’s life she didn’t know about. She wondered if it would take a lifetime to fully understand the complexities of Ms Mount. She locked eyes with the woman and mockingly shook her head. This amused Patsy no end and she grinned back cheekily at the Welsh woman. As Delia moved slowly across the polished hardwood floors she maintained eye contact with the red head and quietly spoke, ‘I just wanted to say sorry for earlier and Happy Birthday again to you Pats. I haven’t really been able to do so properly yet.’

Although frustrated with the Welsh woman, the words melted Patsy and her grin softened into a shy smile. Once Delia reached the chair, she gently ran a finger along the soft leather and dropped it onto the back of Patsy’s hand. Carefully she traced across the red head’s knuckles and lifted her hand away to create space on her lap. Patsy’s brow furrowed, watching the action occur. Maintaining her silence, Delia lowered herself onto the place where Patsy’s hand had been. Instinctively, Patsy dropped her knee, allowing Delia to slide sideways onto her lap. The cigar remained perched mid-air, as Patsy was momentarily struck dumb. Delia smiled and wrapped Patsy’s other hand around her waist and leant in slowly towards her ear. Patsy’s eyes closed as she felt the heat of Delia’s cheek press closer.

‘I just wanted to let you know,’ Delia began, breathing slightly laboured. ‘That I’m interested…very, very interested; don’t ever think that I’m not!’

Patsy stilled at the revelation and watched as Delia leant back to look at her. Patsy’s eyes had widened with surprise and desire. Her throat suddenly dry. She decided that she really could do with the whiskey about now but her hands were otherwise occupied. Before she could respond, a noise at the door startled them both. A well-dressed man bundled, slightly drunk, into the room. He took in the situation panning out in front of him and broke into a devilish grin.

‘Patience Mount…with a woman on her lap. I wouldn’t expect anything less!’ He chimed. 

Patsy laughed heartily at the comment, Delia’s attention flitted from the man to Patsy. Patsy squeezed Delia’s back and shifted slightly in the chair. She didn’t relinquish her hold.  
She gestured her cigar to the gentleman, ‘Delia, this is Giles…a good friend of mine from Oxford.’ 

Giles took up the chair opposite Patsy and took the cigar that was sitting on the arm. He lit it and inhaled slowly. Both women watched as he exhaled towards the ceiling and returned his gaze to the couple before him. Patsy gently stroked Delia’s back throughout and the younger woman felt goose bumps rise on her skin. He nodded his approval to Patsy. All of Delia’s nerve endings were heightened. The sensations caused her heart to accelerate. Patsy could obviously detect the change in Delia and her hand slipped slightly at her response, resting on the curve of her lower back. It was Delia’s turn to be distracted and for a moment and she allowed the feeling to flood her system. 

Very aware that they were not alone and unsure where she wanted this to go, she turned on Patsy’s lap and smiled down at the red head. Patsy looked up, her blue eyes dark with desire and her body fuelled with alcohol. 

‘I have to go Pats…I have work in the morning.’ Delia spoke quietly. 

Patsy smiled at the slight crack in her voice and bit her lip gently in response. She ran her hand back along Delia’s spine and gently squeezed her arm. Delia acknowledged Patsy’s silent cue of understanding and slipped begrudgingly off the Consultant’s lap. She turned when she arrived at the doorway to see that Giles had now started talking loudly and boisterously at Patsy. She glanced up at Delia and gave a lopsided smile. Delia felt her chest constrict once more before she made her way reluctantly back home. 

\---

The sound on the other side of the bedroom door woke Delia with a start. It was still dark. She felt disorientated but there were voices…she definitely heard voices. They were slightly slurred, obviously very drunk. She could make out one was Patsy…and the other…

“Shhhhh…you will wake her up!” 

Delia heard the hushed tones, the voice belonging to the woman she had whispered into the ear of only hours before. She was confused and in a half sleepy state, but she could detect that the muffled footsteps were making their way to Patsy’s bedroom. Although, not fully aware, Delia’s heart lurched at what she heard next. 

“You need to be gone by morning, she can’t know you were here!”

A fissure opened in Delia’s chest and she physically clawed at the shirt she was wearing in bed. What was Patsy doing? Who was she with? Images of all the women she saw Patsy talking with tonight swam in her mind. Delia felt humiliation flood the space that the pain had ripped open. She had finally told Patsy that she was interested and that she wanted something more. This was how Patsy responded. Why had she ever believed that she had changed? Patsy just kept falling back into bad habits and Delia kept getting hurt. 

Delia was resolved that this time, she would not allow her heart to be broken by Patience Mount.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And it returns....
> 
> I hadn't forgotten about it! Thank you for all the lovely messages in my absence, I really appreciated your concern. I had some life things to live and there wasn't room for writing. It will all make a great story one day! 
> 
> Cheers!


	15. Chapter 15

'Delia? Deeelia?'

A familiar but inebriated whisper came from the direction of the door. Delia stilled at the sound and felt her heart pound in response. She stifled her sobs and wiped her tear stained cheeks. Her chest still heaved from the ache that had ripped through it moments before.

'Deels….are you awake?' Delia furrowed her brow at the voice and pulled herself to sitting. In the darkened space she could make out a shape roughly pushing the bedroom door open and staggering through. It took a moment for her disoriented mind to register who it was sliding into the room.

Trixie.

The voice. The giggle that she heard with Patsy. As the blonde wobbled over to the bed, she began shedding her clothes. Drunk hands pawed at straps and as her dress fell away, the slim figure of Trixie began to shiver.

‘Jesus Deels, I’m cold…budge up bed hog!

Before Delia could protest or question the sudden appearance of her best friend, the bed covers were thrown back and Trixie had slid in and was gravitating to the warmth of the brunette.

Delia finally managed to formulate a stunned sentence, 'What are you doing here Trix?' She asked as she rubbed her teary eyes and yawned at the early morning interruption. The blonde was occupying herself with settling into the mound of pillows and took a moment to realise that Delia was talking to her. In a slightly surprised tone she replied.

‘I bought your girlfriend home of course! After you left, the divine Miss Mount spent the rest of her birthday propped up at the bar drinking heavily and wanting to talk of only you. I feared she wouldn’t remember where she lived so as the place closed, I offered to escort her home.’ Trixie twisted to face Delia and continued, ‘Most of her friends had left and little old me was left with a blubbering mess…Have you seen her truly steaming Deels?”

Delia was now fully awake, listening to Trixie’s words. She was becoming aware of how the heavy ache that had taken up residence in her chest was slowly dissipating with Trixie’s slurred utterances. Patience Mount was very much still in love with her. The thought made her smile giddily and a new feeling was starting to surge through her chest.    

            ---

 

Delia rose earlier than Trixie, envious of the blonde not having to go to work. She pulled her hair into a tight neat ponytail as she descended quietly down the stairs. After retrieving her bag from the kitchen counter, a moaning humped shape startled her from the couch in the corner of the room. A dishevelled Patsy stirred and slowly blinked her eyes open. A relaxed smile broke out on her face as she registered the brunette nurse watching her.

‘Morning,’ she whispered sleepily, and tried to pull herself up. Pain shot through her temples and she winced at the jolt.

‘Shall I get you an aspirin?’ Delia smirked, biting her lip, desperate to say something about the state the usually immaculate Dr Mount looked.   

‘Please…and coffee…lots of coffee please!’ Patsy responded, massaging her temples. Delia adjusted her bag on her shoulder and laughed.

‘Running late, I’m afraid! You’ll have to fend for yourself!’ Delia quipped, and Patsy pouted in response. Delia shook her head affectionately and moved towards the Consultant. She reached out her hand, prompting Patsy to pause in her faux helplessness. Patsy closed the space, linking her long delicate fingers with Delia’s. They both looked at the space where their hands met, and both held their breath as they felt the gentle warmth of the connection.

‘Deels…’ Patsy began. Delia squeezed her fingers in response, halting the Doctor’s words.

‘I’ve got to go…but I know Pats. I know. You don’t need to say anything.’ 

Patsy half closed her eyes and allowed Delia to show her affection in the light touches. The tender interaction was brief but to the two women everything had paused and there was nothing more important in either woman’s world than to be right there, held in the moment.

A shuffling far off in the house interrupted the scene and Delia watched Patsy’s eyes flicker open and uncertainty register on her face at the unusual sound. Delia could see the concern and giggled at how Patsy couldn’t remember the unceremonious end to her birthday evening.

‘Just to remind you that Trixie is asleep in the spare room by the way!’ Patsy’s shot her a look that started with surprise and then broke into dawning realisation.

‘Oh….’ She added apologetically.

Delia continued to smile and cheekily added, ‘She was worried that you wouldn’t make it home…said something about propping up the bar with you and listening to how much you were in love with me.’ A sly blue wink accompanied the comment and produced a lopsided half smile from the red head. 

‘No idea about that Deels…doesn’t sound like me!’ Patsy laughed, half shielding her face from the Welsh woman. Delia chuckled and let her fingers drop away from Patsy. The immediate release prompted Patsy to focus directly on the departing woman and speak earnestly.  

‘What time will you be around later?’ She asked, her blue eyes intense and searching, ‘I would really like to talk to you about… _things._ ’ Delia could feel in the hesitation the apprehension of rejection. The uncharacteristic worry in her tone tugged at Delia’s heart.

‘I’ll be back late afternoon, we can talk then,’ she clarified, and relief poured out in Patsy’s smile. Delia gave a reassuring quirk of the lips, nodded her head and made for the door towards the hall.

 

\---

 

As she passed the dresser in the reception room, an envelope caught her attention. Ordinarily Delia didn’t give the pile of post a second glance, but this morning a familiar logo attracted her attention.

It was odd. Out of place.

Reacting before fully thinking, Delia reached out and pocketed the letter. Why was Patsy receiving mail from her estate agent? As she closed the front door, her stomach churned. The coincidence between Patsy and her house sale falling through gnawed at her. She wasn’t sure what she was going to do, but as she walked along the quiet Chelsea street the envelope burned a hole in her pocket. Unable to leave things alone, she retrieved it as she turned the corner of Patsy’s road. With trepidation, she opened it and her footsteps faltered as she read what Patsy had done. Fresh tears stung her eyes as Delia learnt how Patsy had calculatingly derailed her future. 

Damn woman!

Delia felt a fool, but more than that, she was angry with how Patsy could manipulate her affections as though she was another Mount family commodity. She thrust the letter back into her pocket and purposefully strode towards work thinking of exactly what she was going to say to the controlling Consultant later that day.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Art of Patience....
> 
> Too true if you are still reading or want to know how this tale ends! 
> 
> After two wonderful weeks adventuring with my own Doctor this latest instalment was finally ready. About time too!


	16. Chapter 16

‘Yes, I agree, it needed to be said!’

Trixie drew on her cigarette and flicked her thumb against her small fingernail. ‘However, you did say some additional horrible and unnecessary things Deels.’ She paused in her contemplation as she weighed up what to say next. Deep in thought, Delia sat opposite her on the pub picnic table running her fingers up and down the cold glass.

Her immediate anger over the house had sent her to work in a fury. She filled that day with what she was going to say to Patsy and none of it was going to please the consultant. She had taken those words and unleashed them on a hungover Patsy that same evening. So much was said and hurt, angry tears were spilt as Delia’s Celtic passion ran riot. She had subsequently packed her bags and moved onto the sofa of the flat she had once shared with Trixie.  However, today she was in a more reflective mood due to her best friend presenting both sides of the argument. Although it grated, she made astute sense as always. 

‘You should talk to her again Delia, she is totally in love with you.’ Delia’s blue eyes flickered up to meet Trixie’s, a wave of regret and sorrow momentarily washed over her features.

‘I don’t think she would talk to me after some of what I said.’ Delia admitted mumbling half to herself.

 She recalled Patsy’s face as she told her how manipulative and calculating she thought she was; how her life had been one of money and excess. At first the red head looked wounded but then almost instantly her demeaner changed and the protective steel shell that she had adopted for most of her life enveloped her, and she fought back. This had further enraged Delia and spurred her on. She said some regretful things, but Patience Mount adept in this kind of warfare, had batted them away with ease and scorn. At the recollection of this side of Patsy, Delia immediately shuttered her wavering emotions and re-addressed her best friend sternly.

‘But, it couldn’t go unsaid. She did a terrible thing Trixie. She needed to know that she cannot buy and control people like that!’ Trixie half nodded acknowledging Delia’s anger and resentment.  She knew her friend was deeply hurt but she also saw the flickering doubt in what Delia said.

 The blonde tentatively ventured into murky water, ‘Maybe she needs someone in touch the real world to guide and help her understand that.’ Trixie raised a perfectly arched eyebrow and Delia glared at the suggestion. Undeterred, she pushed the point further.

‘Oh my, did she do a ridiculous thing? Yes.’ She began, ‘You, yourself have told me that the fact she was born into money hasn’t resulted in her having the happiest of lives so far, has it?’ Trixie returned Delia’s glare. ‘She’s got expensive toys and fabulous wardrobe, but apart from her career success she hasn’t had a fulfilling personal life.’

‘What’s that got to do with what she did?’ Delia snapped back, eyebrows knotted.

‘It was the desperate act of a total romantic who wants you in her life at whatever cost!’ Replied Trixie.

Delia halted, having never thought about this fact. She had been so consumed in the controlling aspect of the act that she hadn’t thought about the vulnerability it actually revealed Patsy had. Trixie could see that she had finally broken through to her friend. Delia’s heart ached again. Her heart always ached around Patience Mount. She took a minute to sort her swirling feelings.   

‘What if I feel the cost is too great Trixie?’ Delia implored.

 Trixie knew that Delia had compassion and understanding, as well as strength and steadfast opinions. She also knew that Delia truly loved Patsy and that the red head was absolutely besotted in return. She softened her voice as she made one last play on behalf of the ridiculously well-suited couple.

'You just need to decide whether her heart is true and devoted to you. If you think it is and you want her to wrap it around you, then you have to forgive her. 

 

\---

 

Delia tentatively turned the key in the lock. There was no sign of the Aston Martin on the Chelsea road, so she guessed the coast was clear. She was annoyed that she couldn’t have taken all her belongings immediately but fleeing with some semblance of superior grandeur meant she couldn’t lug five bags behind her, so she had to settle for only one. However, she needed another uniform and although Trixie had leant her some makeup, there was only so long she would be able to pull off this shade of rouge.

The reception area was thankfully quiet, she listened out and the house responded with silence. Feeling relieved at avoiding Patsy and having to confront whatever was going to come her way, she made her way up the stairs. She was about to turn right at the top when a shuffle caught her attention. Her head instantly snapped left and through the double doors at the end of the carpeted landing stood Patsy. She was leaning over a low dresser, looking in a mirror and trying to close the clasp of a necklace.  As if they both had sensed one another, the Consultant returned Delia’s stare.

 Time stopped. They both held the gaze. Their last conversation flickered across each of their faces and neither could find their tongue. The first to break the moment was Delia. Patsy saw the quick dance of Delia’s eyes, taking in what she was seeing. Secretly thrilled, Patsy gave no indication she had seen the dart of pupils. Delia had handed Patsy the momentum. She could see the effect she had on Delia and nonchalantly turned back to the mirror and coolly asked.

‘Perfect timing, would you mind helping me? I’m having a little trouble here.’  

Delia swallowed hard.

Damn Patience Mount. She responded without thinking and made her way towards the open doors. Dressed only in underwear that clung to every smooth perfect curve, Patsy had broken Delia’s fiercely held resolve. With minimal effort the red head had inadvertently found a weakness. As she turned towards the mirror Delia inwardly groaned at the sight of the suspenders flexing tightly against Patsy’s toned thigh. Visually consumed, Delia’s brain had short circuited. It wasn’t until standing behind the taller woman, taking in the sight of her rear perfectly framed by straps, did she ask herself why or who was she was dressed up for.

 As if Patsy could read her thoughts. She delivered the line with a clear understanding of its effect.

 ‘I’ve got a date…’

Instantly Delia’s jealousy spiked. She steadied her hand, not wanting Patsy to feel it tremble. Her mind raced with images of who the woman might be, how she knew Patsy and what Patsy hoped would happen after. As Patsy held her hair to the side, Delia fixed the clasp and lightly touched her shoulders to indicate she was finished. Goose bumps erupted across Patsy’s soft skin. Delia stilled at the sight of the reaction that she could still elicit from the older woman.

‘Lucky lady,’ she replied and walked away without waiting for a reply. Struck numb by her response, Patsy watched Delia disappear and a surge of longing followed after.

Delia slammed the door of the guest room closed and leant heavily against it. She knew in that moment she wanted her. She wanted this incorrigible woman. Wanted every part of her. That somehow, they’d found each other, and they worked on every level.  Events kept conspiring against them, but they kept being drawn back together.

Patsy’s lips curled at the edges at the sound of the slam. The slam told its own story. She hadn’t expected to see Delia. Assumed that after what she had said that it was the end; this time it was finally over. In a moment of desperation and a craving to feel desired, she’d made the date; never expecting to ever feel longing from Delia again.

Quickly she slipped on her dress and made for the stairs. She paused at the guest room and raised a hand to knock. She halted before her knuckles met the wood. She worried her lip thinking of what to say. Once again, the words wouldn’t come. Exasperated, she turned to actions – what she needed to do was cancel the date. Cancel the date and make it right between her and Delia. She tuned on her heel and hurried down the stairs. On a mission, she reached for her phone as she powered through the front door.   

Sunk on the floor, Delia heard Patsy leave and her heart ripped. Patsy was not going to be with another woman tonight. She was not going to allow Patsy to sleep with someone else after the effect they both just had on each other. The Welsh woman grabbed her phone and without caution sent the most forthright message she ever had.

 

 

 

 

 

 


	17. Chapter 17

The front door shut loudly. Curled up on the guest bed waiting, Delia heard keys being thrown onto the sideboard in the reception room. Patsy had returned. It was still much too early for her date to be finished. She must have received her earlier message. Delia swallowed hard. She couldn’t have spoken more plainly. Through the dimness of the drawing evening, she saw her phone light up with a message.

_We’re doing this now._

It had worked. It had brought Patsy away from the woman she was seeing and back home to her...finally. Delia read the four words again and felt a tightening in her core. Closing the door behind her, she walked out the room and into the half-light of the landing. Her hand steady on the railing, she paused as she looked down into the space below.

Patsy stood motionless, eyes fixed on Delia above.

A surge of desire flooded the brunette seeing Patsy’s obvious intent written across her face. She wanted Delia. They had danced around this for too long. It had been there all the time. It had never left either of them.

Delia realised that Patsy was waiting, asking silent permission. Delia held the exquisite moment, dangled the temptation for as long as she could. For as long as she could bare herself. She lifted an eyebrow at the red head.

‘I want to see what’s on underneath.’

Patsy paused, taking in the words. Her chest thudded at the command and an ache shuddered through her. She slid off her shoes and while still maintaining eye contact with Delia, she deftly slipped the dress off her shoulders. Delia saw the lines of her collarbone and the soft skin above her breasts reveal themselves in the dimming light. Patsy’s chest rose and fell a little faster than it had before, and Delia watched hypnotised as the material slid down her body and pooled at her feet. She was achingly perfect.   

The slight smile that ghosted across Delia’s lips, was the signal Patsy needed. She ascended the stairs. With each step Delia’s own breathing becoming shallower with anticipation.

‘Are you happy with what you see?’ The consultant whispered when she was an arm’s length from the brunette.

Delia murmured her response as they came closer. The desire between them evident and intense. The kiss contained every promise Patsy had made to Delia and every possible future they would have together. Once the connection had been made and their lips had reacquainted with each other again, there was no holding back. Patsy pushed Delia back against the guest room door as Delia thrust her hands into Patsy’s hair. Their heat exploded, and each gave in to the lust that coursed through them. Delia’s hands traversed down Patsy’s body, feeing the soft material clinging to Patsy’s firm body. Her fingers finally settled on her rear, hooked underneath the straps of her suspenders. She squeezed hard eliciting a moan from the red head.

‘On your knees Patience.’  She whispered into Patsy’s neck as she held firm.

Patsy pulled back slightly and looked at Delia. The brunette inclined her head slightly and deftly raised one eyebrow.

‘If you want to do numbers eleven onwards on your _very_ comprehensive list, first you need to be on your knees for me.’

Patsy lips quirked into a side smile and slowly began to sink to her knees. As she did so she hooked a finger and undid the top button of Delia’s jeans. Feeling Patsy’s fingers on her lower abdomen Delia couldn’t prevent the sharp intake of breath and the involuntary lift of her hips in response. She countered her reaction by stilling Patsy’s wandering hand. Delia looked down at the radiant, almost penitent form of Patsy. She held the gaze of the Consultant’s blue eyes until she saw them flicker from lust to the need to express yearning remorse. The moment came, and Patsy didn’t fight it.

‘I’m sorry I fucked things up Delia. I’m so very sorry.’

She grasped the slightly opened waistband of Delia’s jeans and brought her head closer to Delia’s warmth. Her body heaved in a sob as she laid bare her apology.

‘It was only ever for you Delia…all of it…I’m so terribly sorry… I know I went too far.’

Delia allowed Patsy to apologise – gave her the opportunity to start to make it right between them.

‘I’m going to take care of things properly. I want you to be a part of that. I _need_ you to be a part of that. A part of my future…’

As Delia listened to the words her fingers naturally sought out and interlinked with Patsy’s. She breathed deeply. After a moment’s thought she began to brush her fingertips across the soft skin of Patsy’s hand. The red head felt the cue and pulled Delia closer towards her and kissed her firmly through the denim. The sudden warmth between her legs made Delia groan and tilt her head back in pleasure.

‘You’re always so damn bloody irresistible Patsy.’ She moaned, half laughing at the ease at being undone by the Consultant.

‘I mean every word Deels, I do.’

Delia looked down at the imploring eyes looking back up at her.

‘I know you do Patience. I know you do.’ Delia took one hand and cupped it gently against the side of Patsy’s warm cheek. In response, Patsy closed her eyes and leant into the younger woman's palm. Grateful that Delia had accepted her apology, she pressed a kiss of thanks against the soft skin.  

The two held the embrace until Delia broke it with a cheeky quip, ‘But, for the record, I do still really fucking hate you!’ The Welsh woman felt Patsy smile against her palm and didn’t protest when the older woman slid her other hand around her waist and pulled her down onto her knees too. Drawing her flush against her body, she looked into Delia’s eyes and replied with a full smile.

‘You hate me _so_ much Miss Busby that you broke into my house and then spied on me in my underwear!’

Delia’s mouth dropped open with mock affront.

‘Oh, shut up, Ms Mount…I did nothing of the sort!’

Patsy laughed hard and hugged Delia closer to her. ‘...And how would _you_ explain what happened?’ Patsy questioned, but gave no opportunity for reply as she halted any response with a deep reciprocated kiss. Their hot lips pressed more fervently and Patsy tugged at the hem of Delia’s top, trying to work it higher up her back to allow access to her bra clasp.

‘Let’s go to my bed’ Patsy breathed, finally releasing the securing of the bra and brushing her hands forward to find the fullness of Delia’s breasts. The sensation of Patsy’s light touches against her exposed skin caused Delia to moan aloud and halt her own undressing.

‘Actually….’ Delia returned breathlessly, holding a silencing finger to Patsy’s lips. ‘I don’t think I’m done with you being on your knees yet Patience.’

Patsy watched aroused as Delia rose to her feet unbuttoning her jeans. She was about to say something when Delia interrupted her.

‘Shhhh…you don’t get to talk!’ Delia stated, with a look which brook no argument. She wiggled out of her skinny jeans and made her intentions for Patsy’s tongue exceptionally clear.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end is nigh...final chapter is written and coming very soon. Thanks for your patience!


	18. Chapter 18

Three Years later…

Patsy zipped up her bag. Her stint with _Medicine Sans Frontier_ had been everything she expected and so much more. It had further opened her eyes to the compassion and humanity that her profession could bring in places that needed it the most. She had always supported the charity through donations, but she had come to the realisation that her skills not only needed to be challenged, she needed to be able to look at herself and know that she had done everything in her power to help while she still had the ability to.

Many-times she felt enraged with the injustice of people’s situations and she had a hundred and one ways that she was going to help when she got back to London. She had quickly decided that she would use the money left to her after her father’s death in the best way possible: to cure and heal. Charles Mount’s fortune would fund research and set up medical facilities in places that desperately needed one. The new Trust was in its infancy, but calls had been made and finances redirected and being utilised on the ground around the world. Patsy felt invigorated about her new project and was eager to return to London to get to work on progressing it further. However, first there was someone she desperately needed to see…and to hold.

She exited the sleeping tent and shielded her eyes against the glaring sun. Sweat beads formed on her forehead and she wiped them away with the back of her hand. She wouldn’t miss the dust and scorching temperatures, but she would miss the friends she had made. Colleagues, like her, that had wanted to do more than stay in a sanitised city hospital. The new relationships she had forged would last a lifetime and a few had already agreed to work with Patsy on her new project. 

The Grace Trust.

It seemed fitting in name and sentiment. Everything about it felt right. Everything in her life felt like it was in the right place at the right time. She had finally found and held onto contentment, happiness and love.

She scanned the far side of the camp towards the medical area, looking for a familiar face. She saw her in the distance - preparing and packing supplies, and instructing others where equipment should go. She watched the brunette for a moment and smiled at her efficiency. It hadn’t surprised Patsy at all when she accepted the invitation to accompany her. The compassion and professionalism of Nurse Busby had been invaluable and together they had made a unified and excellent team. Through watching her work, she had discovered and learnt more about Delia, and with every passing day had fallen in love with her a little bit more.   

She walked over and reached Delia, stilling her actions with a gentle hand on her back. The Welsh woman swivelled around and Patsy was met by crystal blue. It was a sight that she never tired of.

‘Are you ready?’ She asked, quirking her eyebrow.

‘Just about Pats. I feel bad leaving, but I understand we need to go home.’ Delia replied, looking around at the bustling camp they were about to depart. Even at the very last moment, Delia’s kindness couldn’t abate. Patsy nodded in agreement and pulled her close. She felt strong Welsh arms slide around her waist.

‘It’s time for us to go and make a home together Delia.’

Delia pulled back so she could look at Patsy clearly - her arms still encircling the red head.

‘Are you still sure about this Patsy?' She asked, her tone a little concerned. "It’s not going to be like living in Chelsea. There is going to be no Harvey Nicks down the road.’ She continued with an apprehensive laugh, ‘I don’t think the local high street can rival the shops of Bond street!’

Patsy smirked back at her girlfriend and hugged her closer, ‘I am quite aware of that!’

‘Although…’ Delia giggled ‘Your Aston _will_ have off road parking. Your beautiful Chelsea place couldn’t offer you that!’ Delia winked, baiting Patsy further.

Patsy tossed her head back in mirth at the comment, ‘That’s the clincher Busby…I’m sold on suburban living!’ The red head pulled her in again and kissed the top of her head. ‘It’s living with you that is the most important thing for me. So long as I’m with you, that’s all that matters…and anyway, I’ve been sleeping in a variety of makeshift quarters these last few years, a three-bed semi feels like a luxury at this very moment Delia!’

Delia grinned at Patsy’s words and allowed herself to be held against the taller woman’s chest. As she felt Patsy’s warmth radiate through her khaki coloured shirt she murmured quietly, ‘Trixie _has_ loved the last few years house sitting your pad. She was beside herself when you said she could continue to live in it for a bit longer.’

Patsy giggled and rocked Delia gently, ‘I fucked up your house purchase Delia, it only seemed right to do this. Plus, I have a _very_ happy house sitter in Trix.’

Delia closed her eyes and remembered what had occurred a few years previously. How close they had come to parting permanently. She inhaled at the memory and allowed her mind to be flooded with images of their relationship in the subsequent years. How she had jumped at the chance to work along-side Patsy with the charity _Medicine Sans Frontier_. The time they spent together had been one that had strengthened their love for one another. Being away from London had allowed them to connect in ways they may never had done so otherwise.

It had been hard for Patsy to lose her father. As his health deteriorated, it hadn’t been altogether unexpected, but she still took it hard.  She had returned to the UK just before it happened, and was with him when he passed. Her aunt Dorothy and her at his bedside. Together the remaining Mount women had arranged the necessaries and laid him to rest with his wife and daughter in the family chapel at Wellsleigh. A simple but moving service that Delia had been honoured to be invited to. 

Dorothy had fully embraced the idea of The Grace Trust and whilst Patsy was overseas, had begun instructing the family’s team of lawyers and accountants to get the Trust formed and staffed adequately. She was adamant that the venture would be a success and was helping to ensure it was so. With the iron will of Dorothy and the drive and profile of Patsy, the charity had already gained some press and was gathering momentum. 

Delia opened her eyes and her mind filled once again with the niggling worry about the place they were going home to live in. She was cautious and understandably concerned that it wasn’t going to be suitable for Patsy. ‘Well, notifying me and encouraging me to re-buy the same house _again_ did seem rather ridiculous when it came up for sale." She exhaled. "However, as I said before, you don’t _have_ to live with me. We can meet up, date…’

Patsy rolled her eyes again at hearing Delia’s concerns for the umpteenth time and stopped her rambling with a firm kiss. Delia relaxed into the kiss and squeezed Patsy tightly. She moaned gently against Patsy's mouth and reluctantly dropped their joined hands.

It was going to work. She had a good feeling about the future.

With a cheeky wink, she leant down and picked up her scruffy duffle bag filled with her belongings. She held out her hand again so that Patsy could take it once more.

‘Come on Ms Mount," She spoke with a contented giggle, "We need to get going...we have a plane to catch!’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And…this draws the story to a close. The ‘Patience’ series has finally run its course. I have nowhere further to take these characters – although rest assured, they are living happily in my mind!
> 
> I want to thank everyone that followed me through each chapter and up and down the fictional rollercoaster I created. Thanks for every comment that spurred me on and every email I received from people just wanting to say 'good job'. You have no idea how uplifting they were. When I started out I didn’t know how transformative writing these fics would be. Originally, I thought I’d have a go at writing something and see what turned out. It then gathered momentum and it became a way to relax after work. I enjoyed the creative outlet writing gave me and I realised it is something I want to continue. 
> 
> I apologise for the delays in the chapters of my second story. My writing coincided with an utterly wonderful event that happened in my life and the emotions wrapped up with that didn’t allow any room in my brain for thinking about writing. To her, I say thank you. Thank you for being my writing champion, for encouraging my creativity and for making my world a wonderful, enriching and beautiful place. 
> 
> I thank that two characters from a BBC period show (that I confess to not having seen every episode of) who drew us together and somehow changed both our lives. It's utterly crazy when you think about it - definitely a future novel! We both know what has had to occur for us to be where we are now and to propel us on our own journey. Thank you my good Doctor – now finish yours, Doggo x
> 
> I thoroughly enjoyed imagining a world and bringing it to life through words. It’s something I want to continue doing but just not with these characters anymore. So, this message retires Scribbs from Ao3, but if you are interested in reading any of the future ramblings of my mind please come over and say hello, or follow me at:
> 
> @scribbswriting on twitter  
> or my blog(!) scribblerwriting.wordpress.com. 
> 
> Currently both in their infancy but it would be great to have you onboard, and I look forward to hearing what you say and think. 
> 
> Your comments and email messages really did encourage my writing and inspired me to continue. Knowing that people enjoyed the splurgings on the page was remarkable to me, and I was honoured to receive every message. So thank you everyone. 
> 
> Enjoy all the stories on this site. They take a lot of time, energy and thinking to create, but are highly rewarding to write. Thank you all, it really has been transformative. 
> 
> Scribbs x
> 
> @scribbswriting (twitter)  
> scribblerwriting.wordpress.com  
> scribblerwriting@gmail.com


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